Coast of Carolina
by jackwabbit
Summary: An accident sends Sam down a long road. Where will it lead? AU alternate 10, SJ, TEAM. T Rating changed to M for language in Ch 20, 21. There's a bit here for everyone, I think...the title makes sense at the end. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**Coast of Carolina**

Rated: R at its worst for language, implied sexual themes. Most chapters PG to PG-13.

Category: AU, S/J, Team

Season: Mid-Season Ten

Spoilers: Nothing Specific, General Entire Series Knowledge Until Mid-Season Ten

Summary: An Accident Sends Sam Down a Long Road-Where Will It Lead?

Note: I began this in the mid-season ten hiatus here in the States, so in my mind it occurs after the events of, oh, 'Company of Thieves'? Thus begins the AU.

Thanks: To Becky, as always, for introducing me to Stargate, for Beta, and for being my friend. To The Powers That Be, for giving us all Stargate. And to James William Buffett, my sometimes muse and provider of countless hours of entertainment.

---

**CHAPTER ONE**

The doors to the emergency room crashed open with a bang. A gurney rolled through, flanked on either side by two paramedics, busily working on the woman between them. Tubes and bags and all manner of plastic extended out from her like some sort of growing vines. Orders were shouted and doctors and nurses flew out of nowhere to take over for the weary EMTs.

"Give me the basics, Erik." The doctor who was obviously in charge of the ER ran over to this newest arrival. He was wearing light blue scrubs with the simple name of 'Rusty' embroidered on one pocket, and he immediately questioned one of the paramedics, a big sandy haired fellow.

Erik Crane was no rookie EMT, and he answered with practiced ease. "Motorcycle accident up on the mountain. Don't know much except that she's got multiple fractures of the legs. Can tell that by looking at them. And she's fading fast. Suspect abdominal hemorrhage. Cap refill is shit, and color matches those sheets she's on. Positive blood on belly tap. Got two units LRS and one unit O neg in her already. One dose dex IV. Large bore ports both arms. Unconscious at the scene. Unable to arouse thus far, but no codes on the way in. Pulse is rapid and weak, but stable. Breathing fine, oddly enough. Had a helmet on, and it was intact, so cranial trauma probably not too bad. I think it's shock and blood loss on this one. Good thing on the helmet, or we'd be filling out fatality papers, but still doesn't look good."

"I'll be the judge of that, Erik." The doctor was possessed of the usual arrogance that came with emergency work, and Erik was used to his dismissals. The paramedic shot a knowing smirk at the physician's back and wished the woman on the gurney luck. He knew she would need it, regardless of what old Rusty said. Erik had worked his share of trauma scenes, and this one was as bad as it got for those that made it to the hospital and not the morgue. As he turned to sign a few forms and head back into the streets for the night, a voice turned him back around briefly.

"Oh, one more thing, Erik." Rusty called back over his shoulder as he examined his new patient.

"Yeah, doc?"

"You got a name on this? Or are we running as a Jane Doe?"

"Carter, doc. Samantha Carter. Air Force ID."


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

If there was one thing Richard 'Rusty' Kite hated, it was working on soldiers. He'd done a stint as an Army medic back in Vietnam, and while things stateside were a vast improvement over what he'd had to deal with there, he still saw the same kinds of injuries sometimes, and it took him back to a time he tried to forget. As an attending doctor in a busy emergency room these days, Rusty saw his share of brutalized human bodies, and most were civilians now, but sometimes a soldier still came his way, and when he knew his patient was someone who was serving, their injuries affected him just a little bit more. The woman in front of him didn't look like a soldier, but he knew that she was, and he was all the more determined to save her because of it.

"Get me a surgical consult STAT. Full chems and rads. Let's go, people. I want this woman upstairs within ten minutes. Find me a surgeon and a room. Now!"

He didn't need to order his team to do any of this. The well trained nurses zipped around like flies over a choice piece of offal, and they knew their jobs. The barely contained chaos resulted in full body films of the patient within minutes. More tubes were put in more places, and a surgeon in green scrubs flew onto the scene like a whirlwind just the last x-rays were coming up on the digital monitors that recorded them.

"What's the verdict, Rusty?" The surgeon, Dr. Youngblood, asked with interest.

"Looks like multiple pelvic fractures, the right femur, the left tibia…legs are trashed. Nothing that can't wait, though, from the looks of it…at least for a bit. Biggest worry is the belly. I think we have a bleed. Probably splenic. Rads aren't diagnostic, but ultrasound shows a probable gusher. Lots of fluid in there. Tap is straight blood. Chest is fine, oddly enough, at this point. Contusions, but nothing too serious. Breathing fine. Skull appears to be intact. Can't tell if there's a bleed there or not without CT, but that will take some time. Patient is unconscious, not anesthetized, at this point."

The surgeon looked over at the gurney at just that moment. "Um…Rust…not quite."

At that moment, Samantha Carter decided to make an attempt at waking up. She stirred. Immediately, a nurse was at her side, laying firm but gentle hands on her shoulders.

Strong dark hands held Carter down as she moved her head side to side and tried to get her bearings. The nurse leaned into Carter's face and spoke clearly to her patient. "Ma'am, do you know your name? Do you know where you are?"

It was slow in coming, but a response came. Sam's eyes focused on the nurse for just a second, and she answered. "Ca…Carter. Wrecked the bike."

"We're lucid, doctors!"

Dr. Youngblood didn't need anything more to go on for now. "Good. Prep her for surgery and get her upstairs. OR 3 just cleared. We need to cut her now or we'll lose her from hemorrhage. Get me an orthopod for a consult, and get an in-suite radiology team up there for further imaging. We're going to need it. Get 3 units of type specific blood on standby."

With only those terse orders, the surgeon quickly turned and headed to an elevator, knowing full well that by the time he changed, scrubbed, and otherwise prepared for surgery, his patient would be waiting for him in an operating room.

XXX

Several hours later, a woman was rolled into the trauma ICU. She was pale and her abdomen sported a long surgical incision closed with staples, making her look like she was wearing a sort of human suit with a zipper in the front, but she was alive. She would wake after several more hours of sleep, and would find out her ordeal was just beginning. She and the TICU staff would get to know each other very well over the next few weeks.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

Daniel Jackson sat in the waiting room and…waited. It had been 18 hours since Sam had been admitted to this hospital, and there wasn't much else he could do. He'd been given the most recent updates from Sam's doctors only 30 minutes ago, and he had visited the TICU briefly. Things didn't look great for Sam, but she was alive, and that was all that mattered right now. Daniel knew that somehow Sam would find a way to get through this. He constantly reminded himself that she'd been through worse. She had to get through this. The alternative was not an option in Daniel's mind. He tried not to think of all the things that could still go wrong as he fought against the boredom and frustration that came with waiting on doctors.

Doctors. With one very notable exception, Daniel had never been very keen on doctors, and waiting around for one to bring news of a loved one was excruciating. However, that nervousness seemed like child's play compared to the anxiety Daniel was feeling now as he waited for his next expected visitor.

Daniel now had the unenviable task of waiting not on a doctor (he knew they wouldn't be around again for about 6 hours) or even a nurse, but on Jack O'Neill. His former CO had jumped the first flight he could find to Colorado from Washington when he heard of Sam's accident.

Daniel sighed. He still couldn't get over the accident itself. It wasn't supposed to be this way. He leaned his head back to rest against the wall behind his chair for just a minute, trying hard not to think too much…and slipped into an exhausted oblivion.

BANG!

Daniel woke with a start. He realized quickly that the bang that had awakened him was made by the impact of a door against a wall. The door had been thrown open by none other than General Jack O'Neill. Jack's eyes were wildly scanning the waiting area for something. When they found Daniel, they stopped moving, and Jack's body came toward him with speed that rivaled anything a locomotive could do. At least it seemed that way to Daniel.

"Jack." Daniel stood to meet the slightly taller man.

Jack completely ignored the greeting and came out with all that mattered to him. "How bad?"

"Jack, I think you should sit down."

"How bad?"

"Jack why don't we go somewhere a little more private?"

"Daniel, how bad? They wouldn't tell me…how bad?"

Jack O'Neill seemed incapable of saying anything else at the moment, and it was obvious that he wasn't going anywhere or doing anything until he got the information he wanted.

Daniel reluctantly gave in. "Alright fine, have it your way."

"Daniel…"

"Ok. First off, she's stable at the moment. They're still worried about potential hemorrhage, but at this point, there appears to be no immediate danger except the possibility of a blood clot causing issues. She's got multiple fractures of both legs and her pelvis. She has some sort of neurologic damage to her lower limbs. No spinal fractures or obvious disc problems, but something is going on that is interfering with sensation and motor functions in her legs. They don't know if it's just swelling or what at this point. Could also be that the broken bones in her pelvis are putting pressure on things they aren't supposed to and interfering somehow."

"So they can fix that, right?"

"Um…from what I understand, yes to the broken bones, but they don't know about the nerve thing. At this point, they're not even sure what's causing it, so…and they are still being cautious. She's still fragile from blood loss and surgery and…"

"Daniel, what are you saying? Bottom line this for me." Jack had sat down since this conversation had started, and Daniel now followed his lead and took the chair across from his. Jack did not look at all well. He was pale, holding his head in his hands, and quite frankly looked like he needed to throw up. Daniel was worried about how his friend would take the news he had to give him, but there was no sense in delaying any longer. The archeologist took a deep breath and steeled himself before speaking.

"They don't know if she'll walk again, Jack."

Jack shot from the chair as if it were on fire. He began to pace back and forth in the little area between the chairs like a caged animal. He kept alternately running his hands through his hair and extending his arms out to the side like he didn't know what to do with his own appendages.

It pained Daniel to see his friend so upset, but he knew there wasn't much he could do for him. His own reaction yesterday hadn't been so different. Jack would settle down eventually.

Eventually was in about three minutes. Jack collapsed on the chair next to Daniel's and sighed heavily. His head went down between his knees for a minute and then came up to rest in his cupped hands. Finally, the question that he'd wanted to ask since he arrived came out.

"Can I see her?"

Daniel looked uncomfortable as he answered. "Um…not likely. She's still in the trauma ICU, and they only let you in there a few times a day. I went in about 2 hours ago, so…probably not until tonight. It would probably be best if you went alone-they don't like a lot of people in there, but I know Sam would want you there."

Jack actually laughed a little at that. Daniel thought it very odd, but that was Jack O'Neill for you. His next words made the snort make sense, though. "Is she even conscious? Will she even know I'm there at all?"

Daniel didn't quite know how to answer that one. His last interaction with Sam had been limited to holding her hand and talking to her while she slept. But the time before that had involved a Samantha Carter who, while awake, was anything but rational. "Well, she's in and out of a drug induced sleep, but she is awake sometimes. I did get to talk to her earlier, but…well, it was pretty much a one sided conversation. I think Sam was talking to her hand, which seemed to fascinate her, and she kept asking for room service. I just let it go. They said it was pretty common with the drugs she's on. They're going to try her on something else today and see if she's any more lucid."

Jack smiled. A rare treat in any case, but certainly now. "Well, that I have to see. Carter loopy. Must be a nice change from the usual stuff that comes out of her mouth, huh?"

"Actually, I couldn't help but think of you when you went Ancient on us," answered Daniel.

A grunt was the only response Jack gave this time, and then silence fell between the two men like a curtain at a theater. It reigned for a long while. Finally, Jack broke the tension and the silent barrier that had been built.

"It wasn't supposed to happen this way." His voice was barely louder than a whisper, and filled with pain and bitterness.

Surprised, Daniel looked up and silently asked Jack to continue with his eyes. Jack didn't look at his friend, but he didn't have to. He knew the look Daniel was giving him, and for once he didn't mind opening up just a little bit. He was hurting too badly this time to keep all of it in, and this was Daniel, the one person he felt almost comfortable enough with to actually talk to.

"I mean, a staff weapon. A gun. Even a disease picked up off world. A super soldier. A gate malfunction. A crashed aircraft, even…but her own damn bike?"

"I know…"

"I thought she was selling the damn thing, anyway?"

"Her Indian? She did…like six months ago. This was her new one-a Suzuki, I think. Jack-when's the last time you talked to Sam?"

"I don't know…probably about six months ago."

"Seriously?" Shock and surprise danced across Daniel's features at this information.

"Yeah, why?" Jack's response was surly, and carried a hint of warning.

"Oh, I don't know. I thought…maybe…"

"What?" Jack was obviously a little irritated with where this conversation was going.

"I don't know, that you and Sam were maybe…since you weren't in her direct chain of command anymore…I don't know…maybe…" Daniel stuttered and stopped. He was having a hard time wrapping his brain around the fact that Jack and Sam hadn't talked in half a year. What was going on here?

"What are you trying to say, Daniel? Just spit it out already!"

"I just thought you and Sam were, I don't know, closer than that."

"Yeah, well, things change." The bitter note in Jack's voice could not be missed, and Daniel was more concerned than ever about both of his friends-the one laying in a trauma bed, and the one right beside him in the waiting area.

Silence fell again for a bit, but Daniel just couldn't let this one go.

"Jack?"

"Huh?"

"What happened?"

"Huh? What are you talking about, Daniel?"

"With Sam."

"I don't know, I wasn't there. She wrecked her bike. Ask the police or the doctors or whoever."

"That's not what I meant."

"What are you talking about, Daniel?"

"Jeez, Jack, don't be so obtuse. What happened with you and Sam?"

"What are you babbling about? I got promoted and transferred. We don't talk that often anymore. It's not like we both aren't pretty busy, you know. End of story. I'm sorry if I don't live up to your expectations of me. Damn!" And with that, Jack was pacing again.

As much as he knew he should let it lie, Daniel just couldn't do it. His tired mind was still just not processing this information. Jack, Jack O'Neill, his former CO and best friend, was pretending like him not talking to Samantha Carter was no big deal. Acting like it was to be expected. Quite the opposite was true, at least in Daniel's mind. He half expected Jack and Sam to be a full fledged, if discreet, couple by now, since Jack was out of the SGC, at least officially. Granted, the two had had their ups and downs through the years, but here lately, both Jack and Sam had been called out on the carpet about their feelings for each other and things seemed pretty solid. It didn't take multiple degrees in the humanities to figure out that these two had something between them. But even if they hadn't acted on their long denied feelings for each other, Daniel at least expected them to remain close friends. Not talking for six months? Something was going on. Besides, Jack was pretty riled up now, and that only happened if something was hitting close to the mark.

After a few minutes, Jack threw his lanky frame back into one of the chairs, a few away from Daniel this time, and sighed with exasperation. He couldn't take the look on Daniel's face after just a minute, though, and finally gave in.

"Alright, WHAT?"

"Look, Jack, I'm sorry…I just thought, with the rules pretty much not an issue now and, well…you both being free and, well, you know…I just thought…you know…you might…give it a shot?"

Jack didn't pretend not to know what Daniel was talking about this time. He was tired, and tired of having this conversation. The easiest way to shut Daniel up when he was onto something was to just give him what he wanted, and Jack knew it.

"Oh. That." Jack's eyes hit the floor and stayed there.

Daniel looked at his friend and sighed before he answered. "Yeah. That."

"Not much to say, really. Things didn't work out. We drifted. It happens."

"Did you at least give it a shot?"

"I don't know…went to dinner a few times…it was just weird. Felt all wrong somehow."

"Huh. Sorry."

"Yeah, whatever. Probably better that way anyhow. It's still not entirely kosher, and there's some other stuff. I mean, don't know if you noticed, but Carter's a bit my junior."

"Not enough to matter, Jack."

"Yeah, whatever."

It sounded like an excuse to Daniel, and the barely controlled pain in Jack's voice was obvious, but Daniel decided to let it go. He was saddened that his friends hadn't found the happiness they so deserved, but there wasn't much he could do. He would let it go for now, despite his sorrow about it.

Besides, Sam's doctor had just hustled past him.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

"Dr. Youngblood!"

Jack was on his feet faster than lightning, but the surgeon addressed Daniel.

"Ah, Dr. Jackson. How are you doing?"

"Alright. How's Sam?"

"No real difference today, I'm afraid."

Jack couldn't be quiet any longer. He burst into the conversation with the grace of an elephant. "Daniel, what's going on? This guy Carter's doc? How's she doing? When can I see her?"

Daniel tried to make apology to the doctor with his expression. "Dr. Youngblood, General Jack O'Neill. If you have a moment, could you give us an update to get me up to speed and fill in my friend here?"

The surgeon looked worried and nervous, but managed to eek out an answer. "Really, Dr. Jackson, I can't right now. I need to get up to OR 5 right away-perhaps later today? My apologies, General. I just really need to go now. Soon, I promise."

Soon ended up being five hours, and Jack was ready to explode. Daniel had managed to fall back into an uneasy sleep, but the General had only succeeded in picking off about half of his skin cells with his restless fidgeting. By the time Dr. Youngblood came around again, Jack was nearly ready to scream. He'd done this hospital vigil thing more times than he cared to count, but it never got any easier. And this was Carter. Something cold and dull ached inside of him when he thought about that.

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

What Jack had told Daniel earlier was true. After he'd transferred out of the SCG, he and Carter had gone out a few times. They'd played it off as just two friends having some fun, but they had really been testing the waters to see if they wanted to go down that road that had lain in front of them for a long, long time. A road that sometimes looked so tempting it made Jack ache, but that other times looked like a scary and complicated place that was more trouble than it was worth. Things hadn't exactly gone badly, but they had been awkward. It just felt too strange. Too complicated. Somehow there was too much history already there, in the way of making a new one. Jack didn't entirely understand why or how it happened, but slowly the phone calls became less frequent on both sides, starting with taking longer to return a message and ending with, well, six months of not talking. Sometimes he nearly broke the silence on a lonely night, but he didn't want to bother Carter. He didn't want to hold her back from her new SG team or her life. He didn't feel like it was his place.

Now, whatever reasons that had caused Jack and Sam to drift apart over these last months seemed trivial. Trite. Stupid. Even if they hadn't worked out as a couple, or decided not to try, Jack thought that they should have at least stayed friends. Close friends. Friendship was worth a little discomfort, wasn't it? Hadn't they stayed friends through more than a few awkward moments in the past? The idea that he'd failed Carter somehow was killing Jack O'Neill. Not that he could prevent a motorcycle accident, but dammit, he thought he should've at least known what was going on in Carter's life. So, when the surgeon finally returned, Jack was not in the best of moods, to say the least. The anger that had been slowly building up inside the General vented itself on the easiest target.

"You!" Jack nearly spat the word at the white-coated figure, who was looking a little worse for the wear himself. His last surgery must have taken a toll on him, but O'Neill barely noticed.

Fortunately, Daniel was there to provide a calmer voice. "Jack."

"Sit down, Daniel. I'm going to find out what's going on with Carter."

"Jack, let the man speak. He's just doing his job. You know how hospitals can be."

"Damn right I do, and I'm going to get in there to see Carter if I have to bowl this guy over myself to do it!"

"Jack, really."

At this point, Dr. Youngblood decided he'd had quite enough of watching these two men bicker, even though it was entertaining in a way. "Enough. Gentleman, if you'll come this way, I can arrange a visit to see Dr. Carter, and even introduce you to her primary physician now that she is officially post-op, not an emergency surgical case." He said this in a quiet voice, but nonetheless his words demanded respect. Both Daniel and Jack stopped speaking as if a switch had been thrown. They listened to the surgeon, then quietly followed him down the hall. Dr. Youngblood, his expression out of sight in the lead of the little group, had a small smile on his face. He was not at all sad to be giving these two visitors, especially the new one, over to a new doctor. He would still check in on his patient, but it was up to TICU and then the orthopedic and neuro types to deal with these two now. Dr. Youngblood couldn't help but wish his colleagues luck internally.

They would need it.

XXX

After what seemed to Jack to be an inordinately long series of introductions and greetings, during which Daniel was infuriatingly polite, they finally let him in to see Carter. He could barely see her underneath all the blankets, tubes, and various pieces of equipment hooked up to her. She was pale, but breathing steadily on her own. That alone eased Jack's mind a little bit. No ventilator. No obvious life support. Sam really was alive. Jack hadn't really believed it until he saw it. Daniel had stayed outside the room for this visit, which suited Jack just fine. He needed to digest this on his own for a few minutes. Besides, the TICU was a clean room type facility. The risk of post-operative infections in these patients was too great to allow just anyone in, and large numbers of people visiting at any one time was not allowed. Jack looked down the short row of beds and saw that the other patients were in the same boat. Family members looked in from outside through large windows on one wall while one representative held a hand or said a prayer.

Jack wasn't a religious man, but he lifted a few thoughts of his own on high today. As he made his way to Carter's bedside, he suddenly got an urge to turn and run. He'd never been comfortable in hospitals. Too much death. He felt like he had to get out of there, quickly. A panicked look flew across his face for a second, and his heart rate nearly doubled, but then he steeled himself for what he knew he had to do, and he continued forward. There was no way he could back out of this now.

Once he got to the bed, Jack fell into his usual role of protector and surveyed the damage. To him, it looked like Samantha Carter was just sleeping. He knew there were damages he couldn't see, but for now, Carter looked peaceful. He didn't want to wake her, but he needed some contact with her. So he sat in the little plastic chair by the bed and reached out a tentative hand to hold hers. After a moment, his head bowed down to rest on top of his hand, with hers on the bottom. His eyes closed and he just soaked in the touch. He'd been sitting there for what seemed a very long time, but altogether too short a time, when an older nurse with a kind face touched him on the shoulder. It was time to go. Sam hadn't stirred while he sat there, but her hand was warm, and he willed strength into it. Jack clung to it like an anchor in a maelstrom. He wasn't sure who was anchoring whom. He just knew he had to hold on. If someone had looked closely while he sat, they might have seen a single tear course down one cheek followed by a big swallow that signaled Jack O'Neill was trying not to cry. He had regained his composure by the time the nurse came for him, though, and he merely nodded to the woman before standing stiffly to leave the room. He took one last, long look at Carter over his shoulder and walked to the door. He thought no one had seen his weakness.

But Daniel Jackson had been watching very closely.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE**

After passing through the sealed entry, Jack ran right smack into a large, dark form. He was about to apologize when he realized just who it was he had collided with. "Teal'c! It's nice to see you here. How ya been?" O'Neil wasn't exactly bubbling with joy, but he was indeed happy to see his friend. Having spent the day with only Daniel for company, he appreciated someone else being there. Someone less prying. As much as he loved him, sometimes Jack really just wanted Daniel to shut the hell up and leave him alone. Teal'c, well, there wasn't usually a problem with chattiness there.

"O'Neill. It is indeed good to see you, as well, despite the regrettable circumstances which have caused your visit. How is Colonel Carter today?" There was a tiny undertone in the Jaffa's voice that Jack rightly interpreted as chastising for the length of time that had passed since he'd last come to Colorado to see his old teammates. It had been nearly a year since O'Neill had been out this way, and he hadn't really spent any time with them even then. Teal'c missed O'Neill, and was saddened that Jack's friendship with his former team seemed to be fading.

The big Jaffa especially wondered about both Colonel Carter and Daniel Jackson. The General had always had a special fondness for Dr. Jackson, and despite his tough exterior, Teal'c knew O'Neill really cared about the younger man. It surprised and saddened him to see Jack so distant now. And as for Colonel Carter, well, Teal'c had been in the room not so very long ago when she and the General had confessed their feelings for one another, and while things had changed a lot in recent years, he always thought there was substance there. As a warrior, Teal'c understood why things had to be the way they were for so long. But now, he wished his two friends happiness, and he wanted them to find each other if that was what was meant to be. For Teal'c, it was indeed meant to be for practical as well as personal reasons. O'Neill and Carter had the same security clearances, and at least they could be open about their lives with each other. It only made sense that if they could at all possibly make it work, that they should. Teal'c was tired of seeing them put up a brave façade but have no one to lean on when it counted. He would always be there for both of them, but he understood that his friendship was simply not the same. Sometimes you just need someone at home, so to speak. Even Teal'c had felt the sting of many nights alone at times. It bothered him that his friends were drifting further and further apart, making any chance of their happiness together smaller and smaller.

Daniel answered for Jack, as the older man seemed to be in a bit of a daze. "No real change from yesterday. She may have surgery on her legs tomorrow for stabilization of the broken bones. They're likely to do that in stages-first one leg and then the other, but they aren't sure of the exact plan yet, as apparently the pelvis is an issue. In order to get the bones to mend, Sam needs to put weight on them. However, with the broken pelvis and the nerve damage, she won't be able to do that for a while. So, they're going to just get the bones aligned right and hope for the best. They will be using some sort of motion machine to keep blood flowing and muscle strength in her legs. The pelvis will likely be a separate surgery, and they don't know if they will be fixing that or letting it heal on its own. It depends on what they find when they get in there. The nerves are the biggest issue. If this is a temporary thing, like swelling of the nerves or something, and it goes away, they are optimistic they can get Sam walking again. If not…"

"Understood, Jackson." A new voice came up from behind the archeologist, cutting him off.

Everyone knew what the 'if not' was, and no one wanted to hear it. Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell stood nearby now. With him was a dark haired woman who looked somber. Vala Maldoran, who usually was full of entirely too much bubbling personality to match her too wild hair, was quiet for once. And thank goodness for that. Jack was looking at Vala and the Colonel with murder in his eyes.

Jack didn't like the newcomers being there. He had no problem with Mitchell most days, although he would have preferred that Carter lead SG-1 in his absence. The Air Force had vetoed that, and since it was company policy, so to speak, to shift personnel around, Jack was happy that most of his team had remained intact. He knew he had Mitchell to thank for that in many ways, so the young man couldn't be all bad in his mind. The woman, though, was another story entirely. Vala annoyed Jack to no end, and there was no way he would have tolerated her anywhere near the SGC. He was glad he didn't have to actually spend any time with her since she had come aboard. He probably would have strangled her. She was Daniel's little project. His little way to try to make the universe a better place by helping someone. Let him have it. Jack wasn't interested. At least the woman had the good sense to stay quiet now. Maybe Daniel was rubbing off on her a bit. Even he occasionally knew when to shut up. Right now, though, Jack resented her, and Mitchell for that matter, being here with 'his' team. They were outsiders, and this was family business. Two years didn't equal eight, and it certainly didn't equal the bonds formed in these four people. Mitchell and Vala weren't family yet, and probably never would be. They seemed to know it, though, and so they stayed a bit away from the General, Teal'c, and Jackson. The group of five was really a trio and a pair. Jack at least had to give them that.

Daniel, ever the polite one, greeted the newcomers. "Colonel Mitchell, Vala. Get done over at the mountain? Sorry I couldn't help with that briefing but someone had to be here."

Mitchell responded. "Yeah, everything's squared away and General Landry has given SG-1 personal leave to see how this shakes out. No worries about your absence. We agreed to take shifts here. Not much we can do, but we can do that."

Daniel nodded. "Agreed. Well, I don't think they'll let me in again to see Sam if I don't shower and change, so I think I'll head home for a bit. 16 hours up here takes a toll on hygiene. I'll be back as soon as I can, though."

Mitchell responded with a little laugh. "Don't sweat it, Jackson. We can stay overnight and we'll go from there. Go home. You are a little ripe, if I do say so myself."

The quiet older man who had drifted out of the conversation suddenly spoke up. "I'll stay." Jack's voice didn't leave much room for argument, but he knew it was coming anyway.

"I also would like to sit with Major Carter tonight." Teal'c wasn't going to leave his friend at this turbulent time.

O'Neill gave the big Jaffa a look that said thanks in a million languages, and looked expectantly at Daniel, who he was sure was about to protest that Jack had been here nearly as long as he had and was jet-lagged, and who knows what else. But Daniel just looked Jack in the eye for a long second and nodded his head slightly. He knew Jack needed to stay right now for whatever reason. And Teal'c's presence eased his worries quite a bit. This was like the old days, before Jack's promotion to General, when SG-1 was still intact. No words were spoken. Daniel just took the cue and knew what to do. He addressed Mitchell and Vala now.

"You guys have had a long day, too. Why don't we all get out of here."

Mitchell and Vala knew they were being dismissed, but they seemed to take it in stride for now. There would be plenty of time left to watch over Carter, and they didn't want to argue with Jack. It would be pointless. They would eventually lose anyway.

As Daniel, Mitchell, and Vala left, Jack and Teal'c returned to the TICU waiting area for the beginning of their vigil. They didn't know how long they would be there, or what they could do. They only knew they weren't going to leave anytime soon.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER SIX**

The next morning dawned bright and clear. Samantha Carter could tell that from the way her eyelids no longer were black to her but were gradually getting redder and redder. She finally decided to put forth the energy to open them and look around. Sam had been in and out of consciousness for the last several days, and found it difficult to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time. She knew this was from the pain medications they had her on, and although she was pretty disoriented and confused half the time, she was pretty happy, all things considered, so she was grateful for the drugs. She had been told, several times, about her injuries, and her mind still functioned well enough to tell her it was bad news. Thankfully, though, she didn't have to make any decisions about her care. She'd given her brother medical power of attorney years ago in case of something just like this happening. Well, not something just like this, but something similar. When she had signed the affidavit giving Mark the right to make the hard choices about her care in case of an emergency, Sam had expected him to be dealing with a battle injury, not a motorcycle accident, but all the same it was a good thing she had done so. Especially now, as she had been taken to a civilian hospital and was in no condition to move to a military institution at this time.

Mark had been by to visit at least once, she was sure, and Sam remembered an embarrassing incident with Daniel, but couldn't remember the details. She thought someone else had come by, too, but couldn't remember who it had been. She shook her head to try to clear some of the cobwebs up there, but it didn't work. The memory wouldn't come. Then, as she looked around the TICU to watch the morning routine kick in, she saw him. A tall, grey-haired man was coming toward her tentatively, like he was afraid of how she would react to him. And suddenly, Sam remembered. Jack. Jack had come to see her. She'd been mostly asleep and too drugged to respond to him, but she remembered him just sitting there, holding her hand for what seemed both a very short and very long time. He hadn't said anything. Sam didn't know how to take that. She and Jack had drifted apart over the last few months, after ever so briefly testing the waters of maybe becoming more than friends. Of maybe exploring that area that for so long had been roped off from them. It had been odd to interact that way with him, but Sam had enjoyed it, and she was sure the General had, too. Nothing had happened between them, really, but Sam had seen the spark of a twinkle in Jack's eye that said he really was happy with her. Smiles had come more often, and while things were a little awkward at times, Jack and Sam had grown a little closer. The walls they had both built up around themselves had started to weaken just a little. And then, suddenly, it just stopped. Why they had just dwindled away was a bit of a mystery. Sam had to admit she had been a little scared of where they might have gone, but they didn't even talk anymore. Suddenly that seemed ridiculous to her, and she was angry. Angry at herself. Angry at Jack. Angry at her situation now. Angry that he wasn't here anymore. Angry that they were hardly even friends anymore. Angry at life for getting in the way.

Jack reached Carter's bedside and stood there fidgeting for a second. He seemed to not know what to do with his hands or his eyes. He looked everywhere other than at Carter. Finally, after a few big breaths and big swallows, he greeted the blonde patient with a tiny grin. "Hey, there, Carter, how ya feeling?"

"Oh, just peachy keen, General." Sam bit out the words and threw them at Jack like daggers.

Jack seemed taken aback by this tone from his friend and former 2IC. He blinked a few times in surprise, and then even took a small step back. "Look, Carter, I can go if that's what you want. I just thought I would say hi and see how you were feeling today. If you need me to leave…" He trailed off at the narrowing of Carter's eyes and the vicious glare he was receiving.

"Oh, sure. Run away from anything you're not comfortable with. Run away from what scares you. Run away from everything you can't easily categorize. Run away from what you can't defend against or attack. Fine. Go ahead and go. See if I care." These words were delivered from Carter in a quiet voice, but one that would have scared even the toughest Goa'uld. They were vicious and meant to cut to the core.

They did the job well. General Jonathan 'Jack' O'Neill took two steps back now and muttered something like, "Look, Sam, I'm sorry. I don't know what I did…don't know what to do here…don't know…"

Sam was quick to respond and let O'Neill know what she wanted from him. "Oh, you don't know what to do here? I'll tell you what to do. Get the hell out of here!" These last words were delivered several decibels above the others, and Jack began to panic. He took more steps back, looking wildly around the room for help. Several nurses had noticed Sam's outburst and were rushing over.

One of them came up to Jack and put a hand on his shoulder. It was the kind faced nurse from the other day. She gently led Jack backwards and murmured at him. "Time to go for now, hon. Sometimes they're like that. It's the drugs. Don't pay it no mind. She didn't mean it. She's been having a real hard time with meds. We changed her up today, so she's likely to say anything. Sometimes it's nice, sometimes it ain't. She didn't mean it, love. Just come on out here with me. There you go."

Now, normally Jack O'Neill would have resented being led around and coddled like a small child, but he took it with no argument now. He was completely lost after Sam's outburst, and despite what the nurse said, he thought Carter meant it. Every bit of it. And even if she didn't, she didn't know how close to dead on right she was. Despite the obvious influence of drugs, Jack felt that they had just loosened Sam's tongue enough that she spoke the truth. Jack looked back over his shoulder and with a single short glance, he saw more nurses around Carter's bed, with restraints ready. It looked like the nurses and orderlies were going to have a battle on their hands, and Jack didn't envy them at all, but he felt he would rather be in their shoes than his. He threw open the door to the TICU and stormed out, never looking back again. Teal'c's puzzled gaze followed his retreating back.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

The knock at the door startled Jack. Who would be here? And why? He was packing up a few things at his house to take back to Washington with him. His apartment there was functional and nice, but there were a few things he hadn't thought to take back with him last time he was in Colorado, so now was a good time. He had to go back to Washington soon, anyway, for work, and Carter obviously didn't want him here, so he figured he would just head back a little early.

"Jack?" Daniel's voice echoed through the still furnished but empty feeling house.

Jack sighed in resignation and called from the bedroom. "In here."

Daniel was soon in the doorway. "What's going on, Jack?"

Jack raised his eyebrows a bit at the question. "I was about to ask you the same thing. What are you doing here?"

Daniel responded in that nervous, fast-talking way that only he could pull off. "I was on my way to the hospital when Teal'c called. Yeah, he actually called, which was odd, but anyway…he said he thought I should swing by here to check on you. I thought that was strange, but when I asked Teal'c about it, he just said he, and I quote, 'believed it was important'. So, here I am."

"So you are. What do you want?"

"Um…you ok, Jack? What are you doing?"

"Packing a few things I forgot to take to Washington last time I was here."

"Heading back already?"

"Yeah. Something came up."

"What? Anything we should know about?"

"Just…something…I have to go."

"Jack." Something in Daniel's voice told Jack he wasn't buying it, and Daniel's next words proved him right. "Jack, I know something happened with Sam. I know there was an…incident."

"You could say that."

"She wasn't lucid, Jack. I don't know what she said, but it wasn't Sam talking. You know that, right?"

"She seemed pretty lucid to me, Daniel. She doesn't want me here…"

"Jack, aggression is common with mind altering drugs. You _know_ that."

"Yeah, but…"

"People say crazy things when they're in Sam's condition. Come on, blow it off. I've had to do that I don't know how many times with you. Give the woman have a little slack."

'Besides,' thought Daniel, 'even if Sam doesn't want or need you here, maybe the rest of us do. Maybe I do.' Daniel didn't want to have to speak his thoughts, because he knew it would make Jack uncomfortable. He would if he had to, though. It was so good to have Jack back. His team needed him now, even if things were a little different. And Daniel had a sneaking suspicion Jack needed them, too, despite the fact that there was no way he would admit it.

That actually brought a small laugh from Jack. "Yeah, you're right. She deserves a little leeway. I'm sure she didn't mean it. Alright. I can stick around for a few days. I do have to get back to Washington by the end of the week, though."

Daniel marveled at how easy it had been to convince Jack to stay, but decided not to dwell on it. That was a good thing, as Jack wouldn't have told him why he was staying anyway. Jack wasn't staying for Sam. He was still hurt and angry over her words, and although he probably would've regretted it, he could have left her in order to seek some sort of petty revenge. But he wasn't strong enough to leave Daniel. Jack's former team was falling apart at the seems, and he didn't have to look to see it. Daniel's eyes ached with a hurt that was plain as day. Daniel was having a hard time coping with Sam's injury-probably a worse time than Sam herself. Jack couldn't leave him like this.

"We can handle that, Jack. So, still keeping up this house and one in Washington?"

"Yeah, well, this one is paid for, and all mine. Besides, I like it. I rented a little apartment in Washington for now. We'll see."

"What about Minnesota? Still get out there much?"

"Well, it's a little more out of the way from DC, so I sublet it for the summer. I don't make it out there enough to make it worthwhile right now to do anything else."

This was the beginning of an actual conversation, and Daniel was relieved he could actually talk to his friend like this. It had been a long time since they had just talked. They continued to talk about things big and small for a bit, then decided to head out for a late breakfast. After that, they headed over to the hospital to check on Sam. She was scheduled to have her first leg surgery today, and they wanted to be there when she came out of it.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

When Sam came out of surgery, she was returned to the TICU. If things went as planned, she would stay in that ward until the last of her injuries were stabilized, and then she would be moved to a normal room. The first time she had visitors this time, both Daniel and Jack cautiously stepped to her bedside. Sam was awake, and both were nervous she might give them the same treatment she had dolled out to Jack last time. They figured there might be safety in numbers. As her head slowly rolled to her right to look at the men, Sam smiled. The words that came out of her mouth put their fears to rest, at least for a while. "Colonel! It's great to see you!" She was obviously talking to Jack, but things were not quite connected upstairs yet, as evidenced by her calling him by his old rank. Sam just kept on going. "When did you get here? I'm really glad you stayed." At these last words, Carter's head rolled back to her left and she promptly fell back asleep. Daniel looked over at Jack and for just a second, his eyes met the General's. He couldn't help but smile at what he saw. A smile mirroring his own. A smile that extended all the way to Jack's eyes, putting a little light in them. Daniel thought it was the most beautiful thing he had seen in a long time, especially where his friend was concerned.

The end of the week trip to Washington ended up being done at the end of a month, and Jack O'Neill was essentially living in Colorado again by then. It turned out that he could do a whole lot of work of his type by telecommuting and flying back and forth occasionally. So, despite paying the price in jet lag, Jack was there through all four of Carter's initial leg surgeries, and he spent more time on hospital shifts than anyone else through all of them. There were a few more bad moments, but far more good ones. Jack's visits to Sam took on a friendlier tone over the weeks, and things were almost back to how they once were for SG-1 in terms of the bonds they had with one another. No one ever left Carter alone. They took turns watching over her even as she slept. General O'Neill conceded to letting Mitchell and Vala do their part, although he still looked at them with distrusting eyes. Cassie came by as often as she could to visit, too, and she and Vala helped Sam with her hair and other stuff that the guys just couldn't seem to get a grasp on. Sam's brother came occasionally, when he could get away from San Diego. General Landry visited every once in a while, to keep up with appearances, and even General Hammond came by a few times. All in all, things were going as well as they could in most ways for Samantha Carter.

There was one thing, though, one very important thing, that was not going well. Not well at all.

It had been six weeks since her accident, and Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter still couldn't use her legs.


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER NINE**

The sun was streaming through the third floor window of Carter's hospital room when Jack O'Neill knocked softly on the open door to signal his presence. Teal'c got up from the stiff plastic chair he had been using to keep his vigil by the bed to allow O'Neill to begin his time.

"Colonel Carter is sleeping well at this time, O'Neill."

With a nod, the Jaffa quietly exited the room. As always, little needed to be said between the two men.

Jack watched Sam sleep for a while, then got up to walk around the room a bit. When he returned to the bed, Carter was awake and watching him. She looked thoughtful for a moment, then spoke quietly.

"You don't have to stay, sir."

Jack sat down in the chair and looked the blonde patient square in the eyes. "I'm not going anywhere, Carter."

"There's nothing for you to do here, sir. No reason for you to stay."

Gently, assuredly, Jack repeated his statement. "I'm not going anywhere, Carter."

Brown and blue eyes held on one another for a solid minute. Then Carter's filled slightly with tears, and dropped away from O'Neill's. Wondering what he had done, Jack questioned his former 2IC gently.

"What?"

"It's nothing, sir," replied Carter.

"No, there's no nothing now. What is it?" Jack's eyes and voice were full of so much care that Sam could hardly stand it. She looked away even further and her chest began to tremble ever so slightly. It unnerved O'Neill, who was used to seeing a strong Sam Carter, and he didn't quite know what to do. Jack waited as long as he could before finally barely whispering a question.

"Carter?"

Sam seemed to come back around with that. She drew a large breath and sighed, then looked directly at the General. Her next words were not unexpected to him, but not something he ever wanted to hear, either.

"They'll have to discharge me."

Jack went into full denial mode. He couldn't help it. "Carter, it's too soon to be thinking like that. We don't know what's going to happen here. You could be back to normal in a few weeks. We just don't know. I mean, stranger things have happened, right?" He tried to smile at her and cheer her up a bit, but he knew it was just a façade. He knew Carter was going to be discharged for medical reasons. Her fractures alone meant she would never face field duty again. She would be lucky to walk normally again. Add to that the potentially permanent (although Jack refused to think of it that way) neurologic damage, and there was no way Carter would remain on active duty.

Jack knew that, and so did Carter. "I know what you're trying to do here, sir, and I appreciate it, but we both know I'm out."

Jack didn't argue this time. He couldn't. He tried to apologize with his expression as best he could, but he abstained from making unfair false impressions. Carter knew the score the same as he did.

"What am I going to do, sir?"

Jack's mind reeled with possibilities. His first thoughts were that Carter could do civilian consulting, work at area 51, do labwork, and think up contraptions no one else could. Ideas ran through his mind like water from a tap. There were so many things she could do. Each one was rejected from whatever part of Jack's mind had thought of it, though, as the rest of his brain knew that Carter wouldn't be happy in those jobs. She needed action. She needed to be in the thick of things. As much as she enjoyed her tinkering, there was no way she could do it full time. Her short stint at Area 51 had already proven as much.

The complete despair in Sam's voice had taken Jack off guard. He had no idea what to say, so he went with the honest answer that seemed most fair. He didn't want to lie to her, and he didn't want to start listing off things she could do with no legs. He hadn't given up, and didn't want her to do so, either. His reply was barely a whisper.

"I don't know, Carter."

The two officers were quiet for a while after that, each lost in his or her own head, but the stillness didn't last too long. The reverie was broken suddenly, when O'Neill jumped up and went over to the small table in the room, where he had left his jacket. When Carter looked at him questioningly, he explained.

"I brought you a little something."

Jack removed a single, oblong package from the inside pocket of his coat.

"Sir, you didn't have to. You bring me something every day."

"That I do, and I have no intention of stopping."

Sam laughed. "You're incorrigible."

"Thanks, I think," Jack replied with a grin and wink.

Today, his small gift was a Caramello candy bar. He figured a small piece of the real world, and a break from hospital snacks, would do Carter some good. Besides, he knew they were her favorite, and he aimed to please.

"Sir, you shouldn't have. You keep bringing me things like this and I'll weigh three hundred pounds when I get out of here."

Jack's head snapped up like a puppet suddenly handled by a master when she said that. "Damn right, Carter. Then we can diet together. When you WALK out of here. Hang in there."

"Sir…"

He cut her off and wouldn't let her argue. "It could still just be neuropraxia…you never know…it is improving slowly...you can beat this. Fight it hard, Carter. I believe in you."

Sam laughed right in Jack's face. At first, the General was insulted by this response, but as Sam explained her humor through her giggles, Jack puffed out his chest and smiled with mock pride. "You just used a five syllable word, sir. And correctly, I might add. Better be careful, or people will start to expect you to use that brain of yours a little more."

"Well, hanging around with you and these docs all day must have worn off on me."

"Uh-huh. Whatever you say, sir." Sam had stopped laughing, but she was grinning ear to ear.

"Shut up, Carter."

Sam did as she was told, but the smile remained. Jack was smiling, too, and the mood in the room was one of moments shared and friendships strengthened. Jack thought that he couldn't be happier, despite the circumstances. He and Sam had each other back. Friends. Like it was supposed to be. Jack vowed in that moment to never let time nor distance come between them again, regardless of the path their friendship took. This was too good to lose a second time.


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER TEN**

"NO!" Jack screamed at the top of his lungs. The offending party was obviously Daniel Jackson, who stood only two feet from Jack's mouth at the time of his outburst. Daniel had obviously been prepared for just such a response, though, and his argument was fast in coming.

"Jack, calm down, I just said I looked into it. And it would be Sam's choice." The gentle chiding in Daniel's voice reminded Jack that he really didn't have the right to decide something like this, but the General still had to let his objections be known, and he rapid fired back at Daniel.

"No. No way. No how. No. No freaking way, Daniel. Don't even think about it. No way. I won't let you do this. I won't let you give Carter that option. There has to be another way. She's strong. She'll fight this and win eventually. Don't ever, _ever_ mention this to me again."

"Jack, I told you earlier. I already talked to the Tok'ra. There aren't any symbiotes available right now anyway. It's not an option, so there's no need to get all worked up."

"No need to get all worked up, Daniel? You've never had a snake in your head! I've had two, count them, two! Not an experience I want to repeat, and not one I would be willing to stand by and allow Carter to experience a second time." An involuntary shudder ran through Jack then, and Daniel couldn't help but be reminded of Jack's time after his blending with Kanan, when Ba'al had tortured him to death and then revived him God knows how many times in his sarcophagus. Daniel remembered Jack begging him to end it-it was one of only a few things he remembered from his time of ascension-and he sympathized with his friend's feelings on this, but Daniel also knew that the odds of Sam making a full recovery were not good. He was only trying to help, any way he could. Perhaps the Carter family was good host material for the Tok'ra. Jacob seemed to have had a peaceful existence after his joining with Selmak, and Sam was philosophical about her time with Jolinar now. It had been worth a shot, and if there had been a suitable symbiote available, Daniel would have talked to Sam about it. It was her choice, not Jack's. Sympathy be damned, he just wanted to help his friend.

With the Tok'ra avenue closed to him, the Asgard and Nox inexplicably unreachable, and the Free Jaffa having destroyed any accessible sarcophagi because of their ties to the Goa'uld and their way of life, all Daniel could do was vow that he would at least stand by and support Sam as she began the long physical therapy road in front of her. After all, Samantha Carter was one of the strongest, most determined people Daniel knew. Who knew where it would lead?


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

"Wake up, sleepyhead."

Samantha Carter turned her head and opened her eyes slowly. The face that greeted her was that of her physical therapist, Lorna Green. She was a small woman, with short brown hair cut in a simple bob. Her green eyes radiated compassion and strength. Despite her small stature, Lorna was strong as an ox. She was able to do almost all the required manipulations of Carter's limbs herself, and in those that she couldn't manage alone, she was helped by two orderlies who gave Teal'c a run for his money in the size department. Jerrod and Tim were nice enough guys, and Sam had been glad they were there many times already in the weeks since her accident.

Sam had met Lorna only a few days after she was admitted to the hospital. Even before the surgeries to stabilize Sam's leg and pelvic fractures were completed, Lorna had electrodes placed on Sam's legs to help keep the muscles from wasting away from lack of movement. She assigned a massage therapist to visit daily and work over the swollen limbs to get some of the swelling out. After surgery, Sam had been placed immediately into a constant passive motion device to keep her joints mobile. Her legs were in motion 24 hours a day. The machine moved imperceptibly slowly, but it did move, and Sam's legs were in a different position every time a new visitor arrived. These activities had been increased slowly over time as much as the incisions would allow. Once the incisions from all of the plates, pins, wires and screws that now held Sam's legs together had healed, massage was increased, water therapy was started, and the brutal work of trying to get Sam up and walking again was started in earnest. The passive motion machine was removed, and Sam and Lorna became intimately acquainted.

When Lorna showed up today to take Sam down to her PT, Sam really didn't want to go. She was getting very tired of the constant attempts to get her legs to work properly. The nerve damage that had occurred along with her bone injuries had yet to heal. There had been some progress, but it was far too slow for Sam, and every day her frustration at her own body grew.

Sam could feel her legs now (and that was a mixed blessing, as the pain was now immense), and they would sometimes sort of respond to her wishes, but there was still significant impairment of her motor skills. Her doctors told her that the bones were aligned. They had fixed that part of her injuries, but that was only one part of the equation. Sam had to get up and stand on her legs for them to heal well. If she didn't bear weight on the injured limbs, her body wouldn't get the signal to grow bone, the healing process would take a lot longer, and she would probably need more surgeries. She would also lose even more strength in her legs than she already had, and complications were more likely. Sam knew all this. However, it didn't make getting out of bed and facing the sadomasochist that masqueraded as a physical therapist any easier. Sam could've sworn that Lorna enjoyed causing her pain. That she liked inflicting torture upon her victims. Sometimes it seemed as if Lorna was the most evil Goa'uld in the universe. Always waking Carter up from a good sleep. Always making her flex her knee farther than was comfortable and then holding it there for what seemed like forever. Constantly making her to do more than she could. Today was one of the days when Carter just wanted to throttle the little woman.

"Go away."

Lorna smiled at that and then patiently replied. "Dr. Carter, we need to do your daily session in the poles. Come on, Tim will get you into your chair and downstairs. I'll meet you there."

Lorna Green was used to recalcitrant patients, and so she just never gave them the option of not complying in most cases. Samantha Carter was no exception. Her patients might curse her and send a thousand dirty looks her way, but in the end it was her job to give them the best chance they had to function normally again, and that meant that she had to push them. Most patients left and never looked back once they recovered or otherwise went on their way, but a few stopped by to thank her or sent a holiday card, and those few made it all worthwhile. Those that actually walked out the door after serious injury made it all seem worth it.

So, on those days when Dr. Carter was particularly reluctant to work, Lorna ignored it and moved on anyway. Shortcuts and breaks didn't get the job done here.

Sam groaned and pulled her covers up to her chin. She was enjoying her afternoon nap. She had been moved to an extended care facility some time ago, and there was plenty she could do during the day, but she found it easier to just sleep when she could. There was only so much reading and TV she could handle.

"Not today, Lorna. Just one day off, please?"

Lorna smiled at the wheedling. "Nope. Doesn't work that way. Come on, up you go. Tim!"

The large, long haired orderly appeared from around the corner. Sam soon found herself loaded into her wheelchair and taken down two floors to the large PT room. Lorna had said it was time for her pole work. That was Sam's least favorite part. The poles were parallel bars, like in gymnastics but closer to the ground, that she had to navigate. The idea was to get her legs under her and her body vertical to try to regain the strength and skill needed to walk. It never went that way. Sam's arms would do most of the work, with Tim and Jerrod on either side to catch her if she fell, and by the time she finished her assigned number of reps, Sam's shoulders and arms would feel like they were on fire. Sam was getting pretty ripped up top from all this, but she was no closer to walking, and she knew it. The worried glances she caught from the orderlies and the little therapist told her they weren't pleased with her progress, and neither was she.

Sam wanted to get out of this place. Move back home. Get used to living like this. She had come to terms with the fact that this might be how it was going to be from here on out. Daniel had told her about the situation with the Tok'ra and their other alien allies. Sam was on her own. Supposedly, her little Nazi friend just wanted to see a little more progress before sending Sam home with explicit instructions on outpatient therapy, but Sam didn't know what to think. She felt like she would be here forever. A burden on everyone. With no light at the end of the tunnel. The only things that kept her going were the visits from her friends, but those weren't as common as they used to be, and General O'Neill, especially, was coming by less and less often. Sam's mouth watered as she thought of him and the small bits of candy he always brought with him. God, she felt as if the world was going right on by her. Her friends all had to get back to their lives, and rightfully so, but what about her? Was she to just live out her days in this infernal place, forgotten eventually by all who knew her?

"Alright, Colonel? You ready?" It was Jerrod who spoke this time. He'd done a short stint in the Army when he was younger, and always referred to his patient by her rank. Carter appreciated it in a way, as a small reference to her former life and her work to achieve that rank. In a way, though, it also hurt, because while the Air Force and the SGC had, for now, just put her on indefinite medical leave, she knew her discharge papers were lying in a drawer somewhere waiting to be signed and delivered when the powers that be decided she was in a less delicate state. The delay was probably General O'Neill's doing, and that she did most sincerely appreciate. Disability insurance and other things she had put in place in case of something like this were serving her well for now, but eventually she would need to change a few things in order to survive financially. She tried not to think about that. Most days she did ok, and just concentrated on trying to get well, but today was not a good day.

Sam finally managed to answer the orderly, who was waiting for her response before helping her up into the poles for her session. "Not really, Jerrod, but guess we have to do this, huh?"

"Yes, ma'am. Just following orders." The orderly threw her a smirk far too reminiscent of another man she knew, and Sam gave him a weak smile back. She took a deep breath and nodded. Time for Torture 101 for today.

Sam was halfway through her assigned exercises for the day when she collapsed into the waiting arms of Jerrod and Tim. They held her up as firmly as rafters in a house, and she was in no danger, but the sound that came out of her mouth was harder to hear than any fall would've been. A sob that sounded like it came from the depths of Sam's being rang out in the cavernous room. Tears began to stream down her face, and her body was racked by spasms of pain.

Lorna ran over to her patient, and the two orderlies looked to her for guidance. At a small nod from the therapist, the men lifted Sam up and over the bars, and took her to a small room off the main room. It was private and made an attempt at being comfortable and soothing. There was a small couch there, and the men laid their patient gently on it, then covered her with a blanket. This was obviously not the first time something like this had happened, and after dimming the lights in the room, the staff left Sam to her emotions for a while. After ten minutes of uncontrolled release, Carter somehow fell into a light sleep, and no one disturbed her.

When Sam woke, it was much darker in the PT room than it had been when she drifted off. The light coming through the large windows had softened quite a bit, and there were no other patients present. Sam's only company was Lorna Green, who was sitting quietly nearby in one of those oversized circular chairs popular with college students. She sat with her legs underneath her and a cup of coffee in both hands. She was looking intently at Sam. An open book lay face down on the small table nearby.

"Hey there," Lorna called in a soft voice.

Sam took a second to get her bearings before answering. "Hey. What happened? Why am I still here?"

"Well, you got upset during your exercises today, and we brought you over here to calm down a bit. You fell asleep, and I thought it best to let you off the hook for today. That couch has been a respite for many people in your shoes."

Sam snorted at that. "Oh, so you have a lot of people who can't cut it, huh? Can't live up to your grueling standards? Or just give up under the pressure?"

"Well, there are some who give up. Some who don't push themselves hard enough and don't accomplish what they probably could otherwise. Some who do push themselves as hard as they can and still come up short because of the severity of their injuries. I'm not going to lie to you, Dr. Carter. This job doesn't always have a happy ending."

"Is this supposed to be a pep talk?"

"No. This is telling it like it is. Because none of those people we just mentioned are the majority. Most people work hard and accomplish most of the things we set out for them, and often more. But there are a lot, and I mean a LOT, of people who get frustrated. Who lose it sometimes. Who lose sight of the light at the end of the tunnel. Who feel completely isolated and alone. Who feel like they're taking one step forward and three steps back every day. Who get angry beyond belief at the injustice of what has happened to them. Who get discouraged at the slow pace that defines recovery from a serious injury. I have a feeling that's what happened to you today, and I want to tell you, you aren't alone. We can get through this, but I need you to help me. It's perfectly normal to feel the way you do, but you can't let it incapacitate you, or you won't be able to do this. Only you can decide how to play this, Colonel. I can't promise you that you'll be 100 normal after all this-you did experience major trauma-all I can tell you that I will do my damndest to be sure you are as good as you can be. But I can't do it alone. You have to keep your head above water, ok? Sometimes you will sink below the surface, and days like today will happen again, but you have to keep fighting. So, what do you say? Keep going or throw in the towel? I can have you discharged tomorrow with an outpatient plan and referral to a home care service that can help you deal with living as you are now, but I think we can make some serious progress if you give me some more time and we keep up intensive workouts. Up to you. What do you say?"

Carter just stared at the tiny woman for what seemed an eternity. She reminded her very much of another short doctor she'd known. What was it with small women and power complexes? How did this woman know exactly what Sam had been thinking when she'd lost it earlier? It was uncanny. Janet Fraiser would be proud of this little Napoleonic power monger. The two must have been cut from the same mold. Slowly Sam felt a small grin slide over her face at the memory of her friend, but then she remembered the therapy sessions. The pain, the frustration. It was just so much. Quietly, under her breath, she mumbled, "it just hurts so bad." She was ashamed to think that thought, as she always thought of herself as tough, but it was true. This was harder than anything, ANYTHING, she'd ever done before. The enemy was her own body, and it was like being a prisoner inside herself.

Lorna looked at Sam with sympathetic eyes. "I know."

"And it doesn't seem like it's helping. I don't feel any stronger."

"I know it seems that way, but you are making progress, Sam. Really. Two weeks ago you couldn't stand on your legs at all. Now, you touch them to the floor a little. I realize you can't move them forward much at all yet, but you can bear a little weight on them. That's what counts. Baby steps. One step at a time. It's cliché, but there it is."

Sam's face lit up, making her look like a kid on Christmas morning. "Really? I'm getting better?"

"Every day, Sam. Every day. So, what's it gonna be? Willing to give me a little more time? Or do you want to give up and play the martyr?" Lorna ignored the fact that she'd given Sam progress reports at regular intervals, complete with range of motion data in hard numbers, force plate analysis that analyzed how much weight Sam was putting on her feet at any given moment in unforgiving numerical format, and subjective analysis of how Sam was doing. Patients always forgot about that when they got like this, and it was totally understandable. In fact, Lorna couldn't remember a patient who hadn't done something like this at some point. Trauma had a way of doing that to people.

Sam was silent for a while, chewing on her lip. Finally, she looked up and right into Lorna's eyes. Lorna saw a steely glint behind the blue that she hadn't seen before, not even on a very good day. There was determination and a little anger in those eyes, and Lorna was glad to see it. Her gamble had paid off. Samantha Carter was one who needed called out on the carpet when she fell. She needed a little push. Some patients needed a pat on the back, some needed a slap in the face. Lorna had gambled Sam was the latter, and was glad she'd been right. She knew what was coming before the words left Sam's mouth.

"I can do this a while longer. Bring it on." A small grin pulled one corner of Sam's mouth up as she said this, and for the first time in a while, she felt a little encouraged.

'Oh, yeah,' thought Lorna. 'We're getting somewhere now. If you thought I was tough before, Sam Carter, you just wait. We'll fight this together. Bring it on, indeed.'


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

The next few weeks were good ones for Carter. She got a little bit stronger every day. She got a little more mobile every day. She learned to move herself around more on her own. She pushed herself harder than she ever had before, and soon she was able to function on her own. She used her arms to maneuver her body where it needed to go, and figured out how to do the simple things, like use the restroom, get out of bed and into a wheelchair, dress, and bathe herself. She was not normal by a long stretch, and was still wheelchair bound most of the time, but she could walk a little bit with a walker. She could stand for about ten minutes, and although her steps were short and faltering, she could get across a small room. When her friends visited her now, they were amazed at her new attitude, and impressed with her skills. Although she still had plenty of dark times, she was determined to try as hard as she could to get her life back. No matter what, she would get through this. She learned to push past the pain, to relish it, to use it to prove to herself she was alive, and that she was fighting. It became her ally, and a good one.

The day came when it was time to go home. Sam wanted that more than anything, but she was scared. Scared she wouldn't be able to handle it. Scared that without the support of the team of therapists, doctors, nurses, and orderlies that had helped her every day since her accident, she wouldn't be able to do the daily chores of life. An occupational therapist who specialized in home care was appointed to help her with those things, but she was still nervous. This was a big step. Sam had not fully taken care of herself since the accident, over five months ago.

A light knock at the door told her that Lorna had come to see her off.

"Hey, Lorna. Come on in."

Lorna returned the small smile Sam gave her. "Well, today's the big day. You ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be, I suppose."

Lorna gave Sam a knowing look. "Nervous?"

Sam replied with a slight blush. "That obvious?"

"Actually, no. Just a normal thing to be feeling right about now. This is a huge step, Sam, and it's scary. But you're ready for it. You've come a long way and done really well. Better than we thought in many ways."

At Sam's look of surprise, Lorna explained. "Quite frankly, we expected you'd be having at least one more leg surgery. That right femoral fracture sure tried to not heal on us. That's common in these types of cases. What we call non-union fractures. But all your bones mended well. They're strong. Your muscles are still weak, but gaining ground everyday. The nerve damage, well, like we've said all along, there's just no way to tell. You have to give it time, but from what I see, I'm optimistic you will recover to nearly 100. There's a lot left to work on, though, and it's not an easy adjustment to go home and lose the support structure you have here in the rehab facility. You're going to have to do everything on your own now, and calling for pizza every night gets old real quick."

Sam laughed outright at that. With her friends, she doubted food would be an issue. Even if it was take-out, she'd get some variety. She had overheard Daniel and Jack talking outside her door just the other day about her release and how they would divide up sitting with her. It was like just after the accident all over again. She was grateful for the help. Sam had no delusions that life would be easy once she got home. The home therapist would do her nursing care and some therapy, but she would need to be driven to the rehab center three times a week for more extensive work, and there was no doubt she would need help with simple chores, but she wasn't worried about getting it. She explained that to Lorna with an understatement extraordinaire.

"I think I can find some folks to help me out."

Lorna smiled back. "Yes, you have a lot of friends, and they seem very dedicated to you. You're lucky to have them. I know they don't come as often as they did right after the accident to see you, but you get a lot more visitors than most folks here do. They were here at least every other day all the way until now. That's a blessing. I know they'll be there for you now."

Sam thought to herself that Lorna had never spoken truer words, and counted herself blessed to have SG-1 and the SGC behind her at this time. Before responding to Lorna's comments, Sam glanced toward the door when a movement caught her eye, and was shocked to see General O'Neill standing ramrod straight in the doorway, in full uniform.

"Sir!"

A slight smile tugged at the corners of Jack's lips, and a twinkle appeared in his eye as he very calmly and coolly responded. He was so proud of this woman he couldn't even think straight, let alone trust himself to speak much, but he didn't let it show. Sam's bravery in dealing with this accident humbled him.

"Carter."

"What are you doing here, sir? I thought Daniel was picking me up?"

"Well, there was a slight change of plans."

"You guys better not be throwing me a surprise party or anything like that."

"Nope. In fact, that's part of why I'm here. The guys wanted to pick you up in a decorated truck with balloons and streamers and all that, but I thought you might want something a little more, well, discreet." He eyed the wheelchair and walker next to Sam's bed as he said that, and Sam couldn't help but notice his discomfort.

"I appreciate that, sir. I'm not much in the mood for a lot of people and stuff right now. Besides, I have a long way to go before we can celebrate, right, Lorna?"

The small physical therapist looked up then. She'd tried to make herself invisible during this little exchange. It wasn't every day that she interacted with a high-ranking Air Force general, and this O'Neill character made her a little nervous. Not to mention, she had picked up on the subtext between these two long ago, and thought it best if she stayed out of their affairs as much as possible. But on this, she did have an opinion. A big one. She couldn't stay silent.

"Well, Sam, I have to disagree. There's always something to celebrate, and in this job, well, I'll take a good day as reason to have a party. You have a lot to be proud of, and you should celebrate it. That said, though, I have to agree that waiting a few days might be best. You have a lot going on right now…oh, and as for having a long way to go, well, one day at a time, Sam, one day at a time. That's all we can do, remember?"

Carter nodded her head in agreement and reminded herself (for what seemed the millionth time) to just take it one small step at a time. That's how she would get through this. Baby steps…

After the necessary forms had been filled out and signed, Jerrod and Tim, along with Lorna, several nurses, and other people from the rehab center, helped Sam get all her things into Jack's truck and lined up outside to see her off. Sam waved bye to each of them and accepted Jerrod's help in getting into the large vehicle.

Jarrod shot the older man in the driver's seat a quick glance before handing Carter a small note and softly saying his own goodbye. "Take care of yourself, now, Colonel. I'll see you later. Give a ring if you need anything." Then he looked Jack right in the eye and nodded, once, before speaking a one word greeting. "General." With that, the orderly shut the door, and Jack slowly drove out of the parking lot.

Jack couldn't help but smile a little at the younger man's attitude. Once a military man, always a military man, he supposed. He appreciated the respect, even if he didn't really like the personal way Jarrod talked to Carter. Jack would have given almost anything to be able to relax like that with Sam. But it just wasn't to be. Things with them had always been, and most likely would always be, complicated.

The 30 minute drive to Sam's house was mostly quiet. Both Sam and Jack were lost in their own thoughts as they drove away from the only home Sam had known for four long months. After a while, though, Jack broke the silence.

"So, picked up a fan club, eh?"

Sam looked over at him in surprise. "What was that, sir?"

"Our young orderly. He seemed especially interested in your case, Colonel." Jack intentionally used Carter's rank to tease her a little, and the word was injected with sarcasm.

"He's not that young, sir, and he's harmless. Just a really nice guy."

"Oh, what's that he gave you, then?"

Sam had completely forgotten about the note in her hand. She hadn't even looked at it. Truth be told, she would rather have done so privately, but now it was too late. She didn't want to give Jack any more ammo to use for teasing. It was probably just a get well card.

"Well, why don't we just find out?"

"Go for it, Carter."

Sam opened the folded piece of paper and read it quickly. The words inscribed on it were simple, short, and sweet. In the chicken scratch writing Sam had learned to read while in the PT room, Jarrod had written a short message.

_Colonel-_

_I meant it. Call me anytime. For rehab help. Or not._

_Jarrod_

_555-1671_

Sam blushed as she read the lines, but quickly tried to cover it. Jarrod must have planned this before he helped her to the truck. Sam was flattered. It was nice to know that Jarrod cared, and that he put some thought into his little note. Carter wasn't even vaguely interested in ever calling him, but still, it was nice to have another friend. She hoped Jarrod wasn't looking for more than that, as she knew she wouldn't be going down that path for a while. Her injuries and what had happened with Pete and then even with Jack recently made anything more than friendship seem like a bad idea. Relationships just didn't seem to suit Sam Carter well at all. Not that she and Jack had ever had a relationship in the conventional sense of the word, but their short walk down that lane had left them both uncomfortable and distant, and Sam in no way wanted to try and change things again. Things between the two of them had gotten so comfortable and easy since her accident, and that was worth more than anything else in the world. There were still moments of tension and barely controlled emotion boiling just under the surface of their interactions, but Sam wasn't prepared to deal with that, or any other relationship issues, right now. She had more important things to do. Like learn to walk right again.

Sam had forgotten it was Jack who asked about the note until he interrupted her thoughts with a question. "So? What's it say?" Jack grinned at Sam mischievously as he asked, and she knew he knew damn well what kind of note it was. He just wanted to watch her squirm a little.

Sam tried not to give him the satisfaction. "Nothing important. Just my favorite orderly's phone number in case I need help." She shrugged as she answered and acted like young, attractive men giving her their numbers was an every day occurrence.

Her flippancy caught Jack off guard a bit, and he felt the tiniest surge of jealousy towards Jarrod. He immediately talked himself out of the emotion, telling himself that he had no right to feel that way, and that it was great that Carter had one more person to call on in a time of need. Not that he had any intention of letting her need anything. He'd already arranged for a housekeeper, rotating visits from friends with dinners, and everything else he could think of that Sam might need. He just wanted her to not have to worry about anything. She would have to ok everything, of course, but it was all ready to go if she wanted it. Jack knew Sam well enough to know she would be furious if he assumed she would want help. The situation was such that help was going to be needed, but arranging it without involving Sam would be a big mistake. So, Jack had laid all the phone numbers and papers out for Sam to review. That was the best he could do. He wanted nothing more than to make sure Carter was well taken care of. She wouldn't need to call her young friend. While Jack thought about all this in just a second, his reply was brief and sarcastic, as always, to cover his real feelings on the matter.

"Oh? You think he'd mind if I gave him a call? My knee's been killing me."

Sam was spared from having to answer the General by the sight of her house as they pulled onto her street. While the hoopla at the rehab center had wisely been foregone, obviously the party committee had not ruled out her house for a festive look, if nothing else. There was a large sign in the yard saying 'WELCOME HOME SAM' and streamers and balloons covered everything in sight. As Jack pulled into the drive, Sam noticed more and more things that were both touching and truly hard on the eyes. Bright colors glared at her from everywhere, nearly masking the fact that her lawn and flower beds were immaculately kept up. Sam made a mental note to take all the paper down soon and to thank whoever had done her yard work for her.

Jack unloaded all of Sam's stuff quickly, and then he propped open the door to the house before coming back to the truck for Sam. He asked permission with his eyes to carry her inside, and she nodded her affirmative. It was just easier than using the chair or walker for the short trip, since the big truck and the small steps up to the door made perfect obstacles to progress.

After receiving her permission, Jack sighed one small nervous sigh before working his arms up underneath Carter's shoulders and knees and gently lifting her out of the truck. As he turned and kicked the vehicle's door shut, Jack was struck by how light Carter seemed, but he wisely didn't comment.

As Jack carried her into the house, Sam noticed something as they crossed the threshold, and asked Jack to stop for a second. The front door was wrapped in gift paper, and little notes were written in black magic marker all over it. It looked like everyone at the SGC had signed it. Tears threatened to fall from Sam's eyes at this gesture. After looking over the wonderful 'card' for a minute, Jack continued on into the house and laid Sam gingerly on the couch, within reach of everything she would need for the next couple of hours.

His task complete, Jack didn't know what to do. So, he went with the obvious and easiest action for him. Sarcasm and the basics. "Sorry, Carter, you're just not a featherweight. I had to keep going. We can read the door later. Do you need anything right now? I put your chair and walker where you can reach them, and there's snacks and sodas right there and the remote with fresh batteries, and…" His voice trailed off as he ran out of things to say. He was nervous. He didn't do this well. Fortunately, Carter bailed him out, as always, at least to his point of view.

"I think I'm ok, sir. Thanks. I really appreciate the quiet homecoming. Tell the guys thanks and that we'll do something later, ok? I'm tired right now. I think I'd like to take a little nap."

Jack arranged the pillows and a blanket on the couch in an effort to make Carter more comfortable, and then allowed himself the rare luxury of brushing a little piece of hair out of her eyes and off her forehead. His touch lingered a little longer than it should have, with his thumb tracing her cheek just a little, and she suddenly looked up into his eyes. His own eyes held there for only a second, with shocked surprise and something else, something unidentified but enticing, dancing just behind them, and then he looked away. He straightened up uncomfortably, and began to speak, just a little too quickly.

"Well, ok, then. Look, Daniel will be by in about an hour. I have to catch a late flight tonight back to Washington to do a few things, so I've got to run, but I'll be back in a few days. You going to be ok until Daniel gets here?"

Sam looked quickly away from him and answered, also a bit too quickly. "Yes, sir. I'll be fine, sir. See you when you get back, sir."

"Ok, then. I'll call you later. Bye, Carter."

"Good bye, sir."

With that, Jack fled the house as fast as propriety would allow. He wanted out of there ASAP. He'd thought he was ok with just being friends with Carter again, and didn't want to jeopardize that for anything, but the surge of emotion that ran through him when he tucked her in, so to speak, surprised the hell out of him and scared him, too. He was so happy just to have her and Daniel and T back in his life after his isolation in Washington that he couldn't fathom wanting anything more. He had his team back, if not officially or at work, at least in his personal life. He had his friends again. No, they were more than friends. They were his family. It stood to reason that some of the old confusion and tension and passionate emotions revolving around Carter would resurface along with the rekindling of Jack's friendship with his team, but he couldn't act on those feelings. He and Carter had explored that area and found it unappealing. Granted, they'd done so only briefly, but it was enough for Jack. They had both been uncomfortable and they'd drifted apart afterwards. Jack didn't want to risk losing his friend again just to satisfy his own occasional selfish wish to be more than friends with Samantha Carter. Besides, she needed him now as a friend only. She didn't need anything else in her life to make things more complicated than they already were. Jack O'Neill vowed that would keep his distance. Sam needed him, so he wasn't going anywhere, but he would stay at arm's length. As he walked down the drive to his truck, he was already fortifying the walls he'd built around himself years ago. He couldn't let anyone worm their way through them this time. There was too much at stake. He couldn't lose any part of his family again.


	13. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

The welcome home party for Sam took longer than Daniel had anticipated to happen. It was a full two weeks after Sam was released from the rehab center before he and Cassie were able to get everyone together to celebrate. Sam was still doing well, even if she had a hard time with some things, and refused help far more often than she should have. She was getting around on her own, even if still in tiny little shuffling steps, and her spirits seemed good more days than not. Daniel was amazed at her ability to hang in there. He supposed a good bit of that had to do with the fact that now that she was home, away from the prying eyes of civilians, Sam could do some of her work. She found ways to occupy herself, and that made all the difference in the world. Daniel could still remember getting a frantic call on his cel phone from Sam at two AM asking if he would bring her a text on molecular engineering. When he explained that he wasn't in the mountain, Sam had been completely baffled as to why. She hadn't realized what time it was. As annoying as the call was, Daniel had smiled to himself anyway. The old Sam was coming back, and he was exhilarated by it. Soon, Sam would be making daily trips to the mountain and working light duty, at least if he had anything to say about it. Things were definitely looking up, and today was a day to celebrate that.

Sam's living room had looked like a mini science lab when Daniel had gotten there early in the morning to look in on Sam and start preparations for the party. He had called Cassie immediately, and the two of them had gotten busy finding safe hiding places for all of Carter's Goa'uld doodads and Tok'ra thing-a-ma-jigs and naquadah whatevers. Books were stacked, papers were filed, and devices were swept into closets while Sam protested violently at her friends to 'be careful with that' and 'don't touch that' and 'please just leave that there'. Of course, Daniel and Cassie didn't listen. They were having this party, come hell or high water. Too many people wanted to pay their respects. The work could wait for one day.

After all the preparations for the evening were done and all that was left was to sit and wait for the guests, Cassie went home to change, and Daniel flopped into a chair for a well-deserved rest. This type of work was not his cup of tea. He was tired, but satisfied. Everyone from Siler to several people from the rehab center were coming to his little shin-dig. Even Jack had said he could make it in from Washington. The General had needed to spend a little more time there recently after his lengthy absence, but he still managed to visit Sam with some frequency. It had been like doing dentistry on a crocodile to get him to this party, but eventually he acquiesced. Yep, Daniel was proud of this one. He wanted Sam to see how many people missed her and cared about her. She deserved that and so much more. Sam had disappeared into the bathroom to clean up and get ready, and that took a while these days, so Daniel drifted lazily off to sleep in Sam's new leather living room chair that had just shown up the other day. It was very comfortable and obviously not cheap. Daniel wondered briefly where Sam had gotten it as he blissfully dropped into dreamland. He would have to remember to ask her later.

XXX

Daniel was startled awake by something hitting him in the feet. More accurately, something knocked his feet completely off the footrest of the recliner. He was instantly awake and was starting to jump up when he realized the source of the jolt. Jack O'Neill was standing above him with a strange look of mischievous satisfaction on his face, which both infuriated and amused Daniel. He tried to at least look indignant, though, as he put up his protest at being raised from slumber in such a manner.

"Hey! What was that for? I was sleeping!"

Jack had the good form to try to look a little chagrined, but he didn't really pull it off. It was painfully evident that he'd enjoyed harassing Daniel a bit. "Obviously. Sorry. I couldn't resist. Besides, isn't it about time for this clam bake to get started?"

"Actually, you're a little early. About half an hour. Thought you didn't even want to come? What gives? Flight get in a little early?"

"Yeah, well, wouldn't want to miss any cake." Jack gave Daniel a lopsided grin as he answered, and earned a smirk from Dr. Jackson in return.

"Yeah, ok, Jack. Whatever you say. Couldn't be that you missed us or anything, huh?"

"Nah, I was just…" Jack trailed off and became fascinated with a point somewhere over Daniel's left shoulder. When Daniel turned to see what had so intrigued his former CO, he was also struck dumb by what he saw.

Samantha Carter looked radiant. She was dressed in blue jeans and a silky blue spaghetti strap top that seemed to perfectly match the blue of her eyes. The shirt was flattering and cut in all the right places to show enough skin to be enticing but not so much as to be trashy, and although Sam was still keeping one hand on the wall to stabilize herself, she was pulling off the outfit well. She was nearly walking without assistance now, and while she wouldn't win any races, this picture of Sam made Daniel feel like the old Sam was back. She just looked so very confident, like she could take on the world. 'Yes, sir, things are definitely getting back on track,' thought Daniel. He felt like time had been turned back and the last year or so hadn't happened. Jack and Sam and Teal'c and Daniel were family again, and everyone was healthy and well. They would be ok. They would get through the last of this ordeal like they did everything else. Together. They would be ok. A huge grin spread across Daniel's face, and he felt like all was right with the world.

While Daniel thought that time had been turned back, for Jack O'Neill it had stopped dead. He sat there just staring at Carter like he had never seen her before in his life. He wasn't capable of any coherent thoughts, and all he knew was that Carter had never looked better to him. Ever. She simply exuded beauty at this moment, and he never wanted it to end. A blush slowly spread over Carter's cheeks, though, and Daniel, ever the responsive one, broke the silence.

"Sam, you look great."

"Thanks, Daniel."

Daniel jumped up and offered Sam the oversized recliner. "You want to sit here to greet people as they arrive?"

"Sounds like a plan. I'd love to stand, but I don't think I can make it quite that long."

"Here-be my guest. This is a great chair, by the way. Where did you get it?"

"It was a gift. Funny thing is I don't know who it's from. Just showed up one day with a card that said it was from a friend. I figured it was a comfortable chair, and expensive, so who am I to argue? The delivery guys even set everything up for me and moved it a few times to find the right spot for it. I absolutely love it."

"Huh. That's odd, but I agree with you-don't look a gift horse in the mouth. It is comfortable."

Jack had been silent through this entire conversation, still lost and confused about how Carter could look so good in her condition. How she could seem completely normal. He was astounded by her yet again and just felt blown away by the fact that he and Carter and Daniel were just hanging out. Like old times. God, it felt good, even if Daniel and Sam were prattling on about something and leaving him out of it, as was their habit. Jack didn't mind. He'd always liked the Wonder Twins routine anyway. He wanted to just soak this up forever. He would never have admitted it, but it was damn lonely in Washington. He didn't fit into the whole political scene. He'd tried to go to a few parties, mingle a bit, get to know a few people, but it just didn't work for him. He could put on the charm and slide right into that greasy little world, and he did when he had do, but he just didn't enjoy it. He could have easily dated quite a few women, as he was considered very eligible, but he just wasn't interested in the whole process. He hadn't realized that the reason was quite likely because none of that could compare to the bonds he already had with three people back in Colorado. He was realizing that now, and was inwardly thinking of ways to try to fix his situation and get back to his family, where he belonged.

Jack's internal reverie was shattered by a question from Sam.

"Glad you could make it over here, sir. How are things in Washington these days?"

Jack smiled at the irony of the question, given his recent line of thinking, and answered as best he could. "Oh, you know…the usual. Ok, I guess, for having to work with a bunch of pencil pushers."

No one could miss the slight regret in Jack's voice as he answered, but Carter and Daniel knew enough about General O'Neill to let it go. The conversation gradually drifted to all sorts of things, and the three friends talked together as old friends do until the doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of the first guest to celebrate Sam's homecoming.

XXX

After Sergeant Harriman had officially arrived as the first guest, a steady trickle of humans (or nearly so) made their way through the front door of the Carter residence, and before long, the house was bursting with well-wishers, and a full-fledged party was underway. Even Mark and his family had made it up, and everyone seemed to be entertaining each other very well. Cassie and Daniel ran the show, producing food and drinks from a seemingly endless supply, while Teal'c did the actual kitchen work and Sam played a gracious hostess, despite being limited to short sessions of standing and basically no walking.

Everything seemed to be going well. Everyone seemed happy. Everyone except the man in the corner. It seems there's one at every party. The guy who just doesn't fit in. The one who gets left out, or who doesn't want to join in to begin with. It must be a rule.

Jack O'Neill sat in his corner and sipped his beer. He wasn't sure how many he'd had, but he knew it was enough to put him in a contemplative mood, and that was probably not a good thing, because all he could think about right now was how very stupid he had been to think he could just walk back into the lives of his former team without missing a beat. Two hours ago, he had been thinking of retiring, for real this time, to move back to Colorado to be closer to those he considered his family. Now, all he could think of was how he didn't fit in, how he was washed up and too old to play their game anymore, and how painful it would be to him to have to be reminded of that every day.

Across the room, Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter was smiling a wide, toothy, truly happy grin. It was aimed at none other than Jerrod McAllister, the young, buff orderly from Sam's rehab days. Around the two, who were engaged in animated conversation, sat two other young officers that Jack didn't recognize. Sitting there in his corner, watching Sam be happy surrounded by men who made him seem like Father Time, Jack suddenly felt very old, very cold, and out of place. He thought that perhaps he had been right to leave Colorado after all. Jack felt like his torch had been handed to a younger runner, and rightfully so. He suddenly had no place here. Even though Jack still felt close to Sam and Daniel and Teal'c, he didn't want to hold them back from anything they could be without him. He didn't want them to miss out on bonding to a new team, or anything else, because they were still tied down to him. He felt it would be best if he just melted out of their lives again. They had survived before, and they would again, even if Jack O'Neill had to pay the price in lonely nights.

And so he did. For better or worse, Jack made his choice. He quietly slipped out the back door.

No one noticed he left.

XXX

After the party had wound down to a point where Sam and Daniel could privately talk, Daniel made his way over to the star of the show and asked a question that had been bothering him for some time.

"Sam? Have you seen Jack?"

Carter looked a little puzzled and then looked around the room herself before answering.

"Come to think of it, I haven't. Wonder where he disappeared to?"

"Don't know-never said bye to me."

"Me neither. That's weird. I bet he's around here somewhere."

"Yeah, maybe…" Daniel trailed off. He didn't want to worry Sam, but he had his doubts as to whether General O'Neill was still hanging around somewhere. He'd seen Jack in his little corner of the world. He'd seen Sam with Jarrod and the others. He hadn't had time to try to push Jack into conversation as he noticed the situation because Cassie had pulled him into another party chore, but Daniel suspected that his favorite General (while he wouldn't admit it even to himself) still harbored entirely unprofessional feelings for his former 2IC. Daniel worried that this party had been a bit too much for Jack to take, since every eligible male within two miles had been jumping at the chance to make his presence known to the beautiful Lieutenant Colonel Carter. Daniel was fairly certain Jack had fled the scene. He just hoped Jack wouldn't do anything stupid.

It wasn't until late that evening that Sam Carter discovered a message on her cel phone. After dialing her voice mail and punching in her pass code, a rather shaky but all too familiar voice came across the line. General Jack O'Neill was brief, but the message came through just fine.

"Carter. It's me. Sorry I had to leave your party early. Something came up. I had to go."

That was it. That was all. Carter didn't know what to think, but she did know she was angry. 'Where did he get off?' she thought furiously. 'Something came up? Something so important he couldn't even say bye?' Carter threw the phone down on the dresser and blew it off. Who ever knew what was going on in Jack's head?


	14. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

Two weeks later, Washington, DC.

XXX

A cel phone rang. And rang. And rang. Finally, in irritation, Jack O'Neill violently reached over and silenced the tiny machine. He didn't even bother to look to see who had called. He didn't have to. Daniel Jackson could be one annoying son-of-a-bitch when he wanted to be. He must have called ten times a day for the last week. He was the last person Jack wanted to talk to, with his touchy-feely psychobabble bullshit. Jack didn't want to be talked into going back to Colorado. He did not want to have to stand up to questioning about why he'd left Carter's party. He had his reasons, and they were good enough for him. That's all that mattered. So, he turned off the cel phone.

Jack screened his calls at home and at work. No one talked to him unless it was business. If he had to talk to someone from the mountain, he made it as brief as possible. He deleted e-mails unopened. It wasn't the most responsible thing he'd ever done, but he figured if it was important, someone would find a way to get the info to him. Until he had the walls around himself strengthened again, Jack had to avoid those that could pull them down, and Daniel Jackson was at the top of a short list of people who could do just that. While he battled the Jackson onslaught, Jack sometimes wondered briefly why Carter or Teal'c never tried to reach him, but he quickly rationalized that Daniel was the logical choice for the duty. He was the diplomat, after all.

Since Daniel usually tried to reach him several times a day, when Jack saw a lone number '1' blinking on his answering machine late one evening, it stood out. Something just struck him as odd about it. His hand reached out to hit the 'play' button without any conscious effort, and what he heard made him glad it did while at the same time his guts filled with ice.

A deep, resonant voice came out of the machine. A voice Jack would have recognized anywhere.

Teal'c.

A thousand thoughts began to swirl around in Jack's head, like leaves in a tornado. 'Why would Teal'c call me at home?' thought Jack desperately. 'Why would Teal'c call me at all? Is everything ok? Is every_one_ ok? What have I done? Why didn't I talk to Daniel? Or at least listen to his messages? Why did I have to delete everything?' Jack was so frantic, he didn't understand the message the first time through, but he hit repeat faster than a rabbit on speed.

This time he got it. It didn't make him feel any better.

"O'Neill. This message concerns Colonel Carter. I feel you should know that her official discharge papers were delivered yesterday. Also, your presence here is missed, my brother."

O'Neill's hands came up to cover his face, and he shook his head back and forth slowly. Carter's discharge. How could he have forgotten? Daniel was probably pissed at him for leaving like he did, and for not returning his calls, but the archeologist had been trying to reach him much more frantically in the last few days. He must have gotten wind somehow of the discharge date.

Jack had tried to stall it as long as he could from where he was. He knew Landry and some others were doing the same. Jack had been praying for some sort of miracle that would allow Carter to remain on active duty. It never came. While Carter could now function enough to get around and even drive on her own, military service was still out of the question. Jack couldn't delay the action any longer, and forces beyond his control pushed the medical discharge through. Jack had completely forgotten that it would be official sometime around NOW. The ice in his gut turned to lead, and immense guilt overcame him. Jack knew that his actions these last few weeks had been childish, and now he wouldn't be there to help his family through a huge change. Once again, Jack felt that he had failed those he was closest to. God, he felt terrible.

He didn't want to face them. He didn't think he could. But how could he not go and make sure everything was ok? He had to make sure everyone was ok. That Sam was ok. He couldn't prevent the discharge, but he could make sure she was ok.

Jack packed an overnight bag and called the private airport he used when he had to get somewhere quick. A flight plan was filed, and six hours later, Jack O'Neill had submitted a request for two weeks leave, which with his rank and position was merely a formality, and was piloting his own craft back to Colorado.


	15. Chapter 15

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

Jack O'Neill arrived on Samantha Carter's doorstep at just after 0900 the next day. He hesitated as his hand was about to knock on the door, but he did knock. The lead guts feeling from the previous night had not left him, but he had to make sure she was ok.

It took a long time for Carter to answer the door. Jack was just about to either leave or let himself in with his emergency key when Sam finally appeared. She opened the door only a crack, to see who was there. When she saw it was Jack, she did not open it any further. A blank but angry look came into her eyes and she just stared at him for about thirty seconds before finally offering a greeting, if it could be called that.

"General." She practically snarled at him.

Jack grimaced. He knew he was in for it now, and deservedly so. His greeting followed without any effort on his part. It came out of habit. "Colonel."

As soon as he said it, Jack regretted it. The usually strong Samantha Carter responded in a way Jack just didn't know how to handle. Her blue eyes slowly filled with tears at the brims, but none spilled out. Sam just stared at Jack with a mixture of anger, fear, and pain on her face. Their eyes met, and Jack thought he had never seen anything so heart wrenching in all his life. He wanted to make it all go away. A flood of emotions ran through him and he knew that all those old feelings surrounding Carter were not only far from gone, they were very much alive and well. Jack's mind screamed out to him to screw the now defunct regs…screw everyone…screw everything. Carter was hurting, and he needed to fix it. When Sam's eyes faltered and looked down…when one tear spilled over the lids…when she whispered 'not anymore', Jack couldn't take it. Something broke loose inside of him and he had to try to fix this. He reached up slowly and pushed the door open just a little more. Sam didn't fight him. Jack's other hand then came up to raise Carter's chin just enough that he could lower his head down to look her in the eye. He asked permission to come in with questioning eyes and a small sideways flick of his head. Despite everything that had happened between them in the last two years, words were still not needed for communication between these once close friends, and when Sam responded with a tiny nod and a slight opening of body posture achieved by moving her shoulders aside, Jack slipped inside the house.

His first words once inside were both familiar and strange to both people present. They were familiar because they seemed as natural as breathing and had been said before. They were strange because they carried so much meaning for such small words and because for so long they represented something so very complicated.

"Come 'ere."

Sam folded into Jack's arms like one of those air-filled holiday ornaments that had suddenly been turned off, and despite the circumstances, it felt right to Jack. Sam filled his arms and his heart completely. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed her. How wrong he'd been to leave her. How wrong they'd both been to not put a little more effort into seeing if they could be more than friends. He held her and made little soothing motions with his hands on her back, but said nothing. There was nothing to say.

Carter cried into Jack's shoulder. She couldn't help it. She had to let go with someone about this, and in spite of everything, she still felt closer to this man than any other person on the planet, and she knew he understood what this discharge meant to her. She also knew that she could count on him to be the strong one sometimes. He could pick her up when she faltered. He'd proven it before, and was doing so again now.

Sam's loss of control didn't last long. After a few minutes, she regained her composure and whispered, somewhat bashfully, as if she was embarrassed, against Jack's neck.

"Sorry, Sir."

Both Jack and Sam realized at the same time how incredibly silly the _sir_ was, given the circumstances, and small chuckles escaped them both. Before long, the chuckles had given way to nervous laughter and then to all out belly laughs. Jack and Sam had to sit down to keep from falling down from their mirth. They still held onto each other, but they just couldn't stop laughing. It was one of those times when one knows they should stop, when laughing is completely inappropriate and one doesn't even know what is funny, but the giggles just keep coming. To see Colonel Sam Carter and General Jack O'Neill sitting on the floor behind a barely closed front door laughing like hyenas would have given many people quite a surprise, but as it was just the two of them, they carried on for as long as their bodies would let them.

When the fits of hysterics were finally over, Jack and Sam were left sitting on the floor, leaning on each other for support and completely out of breath. When Carter had recovered enough to speak, she shifted her head off Jack's shoulder just enough to murmur a single word into his ear.

"Thanks." Her whisper tickled the hair on Jack's neck, but it didn't make him laugh. It made him uncomfortable. Carter's next move only added to his discomfort.

She kissed him. A sweet, short, gentle kiss on the neck. The side of his neck, where it met his shoulder. Jack was wondering what on earth could have possessed Carter to do something like that when another kiss landed just above the place where the first had been. Jack was beginning to think he had entered a strange and terrifying land where things were not as they seemed.

The lead in Jack's gut had disappeared by now, but it was slowly being replaced by something else. Something warm and very pleasant. Something Jack had felt before for Sam Carter, but thought he'd never be able to act on. Carter continued her upward kisses on Jack's neck, and before long was just below his ear. The warm feeling in Jack was building, and Jack knew he had to stop this. He still couldn't figure out why it was happening, and part of him didn't care, but he knew it wasn't right.

"Carter." Jack's voice was barely a whisper.

"Carter." Jack called out a little louder this time, but his voice still got no response from Sam.

"Carter, you need to stop…unless…" Jack trailed off, ashamed he had even added that last word. He knew there should be no 'unless'. This couldn't happen. Not now, probably not ever. This needed to stop, period. Jack's brain couldn't even begin to wrap itself around what was happening, and this was NOT how he ever wanted anything to happen with Carter. But the next words Sam said changed everything.

"Shh…Jack…please." Carter breathed out.

General O'Neill could have probably resisted either the use of his given name or the 'please', but not both. The warm feeling in his gut burst into flame. He responded to Carter's touch with a vengeance. Jack shifted around from his position somewhat beside Sam to sit in front of her and kissed her back. He was slightly hesitant at first and but as she returned his kiss, Jack grew more bold and the kiss deepened. For the space of a few heartbeats, Jack was lost in pleasure, but it didn't last long. Suddenly, fireworks exploded in his brain, and he remembered why this was wrong. He broke off the kiss and just rested, forehead to forehead with Carter, for a moment. He still couldn't believe this was happening. Why now? He had waited for so long to be able to do this with Carter when one of them was out of the Air Force, but to have it happen like this, with Carter hurt and fragile, just didn't seem right. And things had changed. With all that had happened between them in the last two years, to do this seemed very wrong. Jack felt like he was on thin ice in the middle of a very large lake and if he moved at all he would go crashing though into the frigid waters below. He needed to know where to go. He looked to the only person he thought could help him.

Jack's forehead pushed Carter's upward gently, making her look at him. Jack was scared, nervous, excited, and unsure all at the same time. He had to know Sam was ok with this before anything more happened. Carter answered his unspoken query by softly whining as her contact with him was severed, and Jack nearly lost control again, but he had to know for sure. Hesitantly, with a small quaver in his voice, Jack O'Neill asked for confirmation.

"You sure? I need to stop if…"

One feminine hand came up to caress Jack's face, and Carter leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"Jack…please."

The last of the ice gave way, and Jack O'Neill plunged into the waters of an unknown lake with a tentative smile on his face, desperately hoping he wouldn't drown.


	16. Chapter 16

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

Samantha Carter stretched out in bed next to a sated and sleeping Jack O'Neill as afternoon sunlight filtered through her window. She was glad Jack was sleeping, because she was freaking out. Fear and panic fought for control within her, and her brain was a maelstrom of conflicting emotions. What had she done? Why had she done it? What did it mean? Where were they going to go from here? Questions assaulted her from all sides.

The answer to the first question was easy. What had she done? She had just made love to a man she had desired for a long time, and it had been wonderful, despite everything they had recently endured. Sam had been self conscious about her scars at first, but Jack didn't even seem to notice them when he ran his hands down her somewhat less than fully functional legs. She'd been worried that things wouldn't work quite right, but that hadn't been a problem. Jack had helped her when she needed it, but even with her occasional awkwardness, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to be with Jack. After his initial hesitation, both he and Sam had deliberately but insistently explored every inch of one another, before finally making love, despite the protest of several long unused muscles.

As for why Carter had done it, well, that one was easy for her to answer, too. She was a thirty-something, nearly healthy woman. She hadn't had sex in over a year. She was in an emotional hurricane about events in her life, and suddenly an opportunity had presented itself. A man that she found very attractive had come to her house, alone, and they had experienced an emotional release that left them snuggled up close together. The first kiss had just happened. She hadn't thought about it. It just seemed the thing to do to thank the man who had made her feel better just by his presence and then joined her in one of those fits of emotion that seems to give release to everything. Sam's pain and confusion and frustration bubbled out of her with her laughter, and she felt like she would be alright, even if the elation lasted only a minute. So the kiss felt right. It was only supposed to be one. Just one harmless kiss. But when Sam heard Jack's breath catch in his throat at her touch, it felt wonderful. It felt so good to be in control of something. It had been a long time since Sam Carter had been in charge. Of anything. It was do this, rehab that, don't go there, think about this, work on this little project we brought for you. It was enough to make a person insane. Especially one like Carter, who was used to being the expert, the one everyone else turned to for help. So, when Sam heard the hiss of Jack's sudden inhalation and saw Jack close his eyes and lean his head to one side, letting her in while making it clear what effect a small kiss had had on him, she couldn't resist the power. She needed to be in control of something, anything. To feel like she could influence some small portion of her world without anyone else's help. And Jack O'Neill fit the bill very nicely. Sam had needed this to feel alive.

The last two questions, however, were the ones leaving Carter nauseous and terrified. She felt like she'd just drank a gallon of concrete, and it was slowly turning to stone in her stomach. She had no idea what this meant or where she wanted it to go now. Was this merely a power play on her part? Had she used Jack just for a thrill? She didn't want to think she had, but deep down Sam didn't know if there was much substance to her and Jack anymore. With everything that had happened between them in the last two years, from trying out a few dates and then drifting apart to the recent re-kindling of their friendship and the most recent self isolation attempt by Jack, Carter felt that she and Jack were on very shaky emotional ground. She was frankly still pissed at him for leaving her party like he did and making everyone wonder if he was ok. She didn't have a clue what was going on with Jack these days, and that was a problem in and of itself. Her panicked brain told her that for all she knew, this was merely sex for him, and he had someone back in Washington. She had waited so long for a chance to be with Jack, but when it finally had presented itself, albeit with some strings still attached, she hadn't taken it. She could've pushed harder to explore a relationship with Jack after he left the SGC. It hadn't been entirely his fault they had drifted apart. After her accident, when they became close again, it had been like nothing ever happened. They came together like they always did. It just fit. Now, though, with Jack severing ties again, this time all on his own, Carter couldn't help but wonder why. She didn't really want to talk about it with Jack, as she wasn't good at that sort of thing, but she knew that they needed to discuss their relationship. This changed everything. She needed to know where she stood. Her medical discharge meant she could go down this road if she wanted to, and Jack would have her. She was truly free to do as she pleased now. It was too bad she had no idea what that was.

Carter finally drifted off to a fitful sleep still thinking entirely too much. She knew she had enjoyed this experience with Jack, and she had no desire to leave his side, where it was warm, but she also knew they were in for stormy times in the not-so-distant future.


	17. Chapter 17

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

When Sam next awoke, and slowly blinked her eyes open, the first thing she realized was that she was sore. She was stiff and sluggish and needed to get moving. As she stretched out across the bed in a attempt to loosen her muscles, a second realization made her heart skip a beat. She was alone. Jack O'Neill was no longer in her bed.

Sam listened hard and couldn't hear anything that would give her a clue that he was still in the house. No running water, no television, nothing. Her hand balled into a fist and lashed out at a pillow. She didn't know whether to be relieved or pissed. Her biggest fear had come true. This had freaked Jack out so badly that he had bolted. Again. Whether his flight was due to the fact that this had been only sex for him and he didn't want to deal with the baggage that accompanied that or because it had meant too much to him and he panicked at his own emotions didn't matter. Jack had bolted. He was gone. Sam knew that when Jack didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be, and she feared she had lost her friend forever.

Sam sighed in frustration. A thousand new questions sprang up in her mind. Didn't Jack understand that this didn't have to mean anything if they didn't want it to? That they could still be friends? Why did men always have to put so much value on things like this? Sure, she hadn't decided yet what this day meant to her, but if she and Jack had decided it meant nothing, she would've been ok with that. She could've accepted it as a wonderful experience between great 'friends with benefits', so to speak. She could have 'kept it in the room'. It's not like it would have been the first time that they had suppressed things. Sure, this event added another degree of difficulty to that task, but it could still be done. On the other hand, if they had decided there were still some emotions underneath it all that they were interested in exploring, that would have been fine, too. Sam just would've liked to have been given the opportunity to make that choice for herself, or at least have some input. She cursed Jack O'Neill and his emotional instability inwardly in every possible way.

However, Carter did see a bright spot to Jack's actions. They did spare her the conversations and awkwardness and emotional nakedness required to make the hard decisions in any relationship, so in a way she thought maybe this was for the best. She just prayed that Jack wouldn't stay gone for good. His friendship was too important to her, and to Daniel and Teal'c, too. Jack had been missed, even in just these last two weeks, and Sam hoped that one sexual experience wouldn't get in the way of him knowing where he needed to be. He belonged with his surrogate family, no matter what. It didn't matter that Jack O'Neill and Samantha Carter had made love one sunny afternoon. That didn't change the strong bonds of friendship forged between four people through years of shared experiences, and it didn't change the fact that Jack belonged close to those four people, no matter what.

XXX

After a short shower (Sam had been too long in the military to languish in the hot water, no matter how good it felt), Carter headed into the kitchen for a drink. She was rummaging around in the fridge when she heard something that made her freeze.

A key had turned in her lock.

Only two people had a key to her house besides herself. Daniel and Jack. She was pretty sure Daniel would've knocked before letting himself in, so that left one Jonathan O'Neill as the primary suspect for who was sneaking in the front door.

Sam closed the fridge door, leaned on the counter, and waited.

The door slowly opened and Jack's head appeared around the doorframe, looking around. When he spotted Sam looking back at him, his eyes went wide and then looked to the floor. He seemed surprised and then a little embarrassed.

"Forget something, _sir_?" The title came out intentionally, and it was laced with venom.

O'Neill began to babble. Nervously, he tried to explain his actions. "Carter, look, it's not what you think…you weren't supposed to…"

Sam interrupted him then. She didn't yell. She didn't scream. She simply very coldly interrogated Jack as she would a stranger. Jack would have preferred yelling or screaming. "No? You weren't running away? You weren't trying to sneak back in here like a thief to collect some forgotten evidence of your presence here? I wasn't supposed to catch you so you could disappear again, like you always do when something gets too close for comfort? When you start to care more than you should? Or is it that you don't care at all?"

Jack stood in the doorway, with his head hung low and his eyes studying the floor, and just let Sam talk, unsure what to do or say. Carter's words were cutting him right to his core. She probably had no idea how right she was. How the same things she was saying had flitted across Jack's mind only minutes earlier as he sat in her driveway in his truck, trying to come back into the house. How he was in utter turmoil about what to do now and how he had no idea how he felt about everything that had happened between he and Sam, not just today, but in the last two years. It would have been so easy to run away, to deal with it by not dealing with it, as was his habit, but Jack O'Neill was tired of running.

He'd tried to escape this, but it hadn't worked. Jack had driven around town for a long time, thinking about a lot of things and looking hard at his life while Carter had slept the afternoon away. No matter which way he looked at things, Jack's mind kept coming to only one inevitable conclusion.

He couldn't run forever. He was old. He was tired. And he wanted to stop.

Finally, Jack's eyes left the floor and he looked into Sam's face. He didn't have any more answers than he'd had a few hours ago, but he knew he had to try this. He had to talk about this. One simple word interrupted Sam's interrogation.

"Carter."

"What?"

"I'm not running away."

"What?"

"I'm not running away. I'm tired of dodging this. I'm tired of running."

Sam was stunned by this admission from the General. Jack was historically so uncomfortable dealing with emotions that Sam fully expected him to try to shut her out, even after the afternoon they had shared and everything else they had been through together, but it sounded like he actually wanted to try to talk. To try to figure out where they stood and where they were going to go from there. Carter wasn't sure if she was ready to do that, or if she even wanted to do it at all, but it looked like there wasn't a choice. It was now or never, and the first option was dramatically better than the second. Never was not something she wanted to think about. So, now it was. Sam began to feel the tiniest tendrils of guilt about her assumptions concerning Jack and his actions.

"So, where did you go then?"

Tentatively, as if he expected Sam to bite his head off at any time, Jack reached back out the door to the steps and retrieved two large white paper bags. "Got dinner. Hope Chinese is ok?"

If Carter thought she felt bad before, she felt worse now. Jack had tried to do something thoughtful, and here she was lambasting him for it.

Blushing and looking up at Jack with an abashed look, there was only one answer she could give.

"Chinese sounds great. I'll get some drinks and napkins."


	18. Chapter 18

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

They ate mostly in silence for about ten minutes, while sitting on opposite sides of Sam's kitchen table. It wasn't a comfortable silence, but they were both hungry, so the food made a good excuse not to talk. Finally, Carter broke the quiet.

"Sorry."

Jack looked up from the cardboard bucket that was serving as a bowl with a mouth half full of noodles. "Huh?"

"Sorry, sir."

Jack finished his mouthful and swallowed. He waved at Sam dismissively. "Don't worry about it. I would've thought the same thing in your shoes. It's not like I have a stellar track record when it comes to relationship etiquette. Oh, and Carter, drop the sir, ok?"

Carter chuckled a little at that. "I'll try. Ten years makes it a hard habit to break, but I'll try. Oh, and Jack, in the interest of fairness, it's Sam."

Now it was Jack's turn to laugh. "Alright. I'll try, too. You're right. It will be a hard habit to break, but maybe we'll have plenty of time to work on it?"

There was nervous hope in Jack's voice as he spoke, and his hand snuck across the table toward Sam's then. He turned it over, so that the palm was up. His eyes explored her face, looking for some sign of how she was feeling about everything. Inwardly, he prayed that she was ok, and that somehow, someway he would get another chance at being more than friends with Samantha Carter.

Privately, Carter was battling herself. On one hand she wanted nothing more than to take the offered hand and just see how things played out. On the other, she had no idea what she wanted. She was at a place in her life where so many choices were presenting themselves. Did she want to try to find a civilian position within the SGC? Or within the military at all? Or did she want to do something entirely different? Lab work? Teach? None of the above? Did she want to stay in Colorado Springs or go elsewhere? Did she want to try to lead a 'normal' life, with a family, a dog, and a minivan? That last thought made Sam shudder, and Jack took that as a rejection of his offer. He slowly turned his hand over and slid it back towards himself, as the hopeful light in his eyes died and his features fell.

"Sorry."

"No, sir…Jack. It's not you. It's just that I don't know which way is up right now. I'm so overwhelmed by everything. I have no idea where I'm going or how I'm going to get there. I don't want to mislead you. I don't want to get involved any deeper with you until I know that what I feel is what I feel. Until I'm sure that if you ask me what I want to do, I won't change my mind the next week. I'm not really in a good position to begin a relationship right now. I'm sorry for today. I'm sorry I screwed everything up."

"Ouch." O'Neill's eyes closed, and his head turned slightly to the side like he was trying not to flinch at the words he'd just heard.

Sam quickly began to backpedal. "No…I didn't mean it like that…really…I just…"

Jack interrupted her. "I know. I understand. And I'm not looking for anything here. I don't know where we go from here, either. I don't even know how I feel about everything. I just…tell you what. I'm going to go home. To my house here, in Colorado. When you feel up to it, you give me a call, and we can have dinner or something and try to see where this leads, ok? I know I haven't always been good on it before, and for that I apologize, but I said I would always be here for you, and I will be. No more running. I'm in this for the long haul, if we decide we want to explore this. If not, well, that will have to be ok, too. I don't want to lose you again."

Sam thought that she couldn't have heard Jack right. This was exactly what she wanted to hear. Take some time, maybe go out a bit again, see where things go. If they went well, cool. If not, ok, but no drifting apart again no matter what. No letting one event stand in the way of anything. It seemed idealistic, but Sam thought maybe they could pull it off. Maybe…

The phone rang. Suddenly, Sam realized it was nine o'clock at night. She wondered why no one else had called or come by. Since she had received her discharge papers, Daniel had practically been living at her house to make sure she was ok. Sam wondered why hadn't she heard from him today.

"That's probably Daniel. Let me get it real quick, ok? If I don't answer, he'll be over here before we can blink."

"I know that feeling. Go ahead." Jack waved her to the phone.

"Hello?" Sam nodded at Jack that it was indeed Daniel.

Jack heard only one side of the conversation, but it was enough. He knew why Daniel had called. He was checking up on Jack. "Um…no…he's here…we're fine…yeah…ok. Talk to you later."

When Sam hung up the phone, she looked at Jack for an explanation. "You told Daniel you were coming over and to let us be for a bit?"

"Yes. I did. I told him we had some things to work out and that I was coming to check on you so he didn't need to worry about it. I also apologized for being an ass these last few weeks."

"Wow. Two apologies in one day? I didn't know you had it in you."

"Carter, there's a lot you don't know about me. Just call me later, ok? Anytime."

With that, Jack got up and collected his jacket and other things. He made his way to the door before slowly turning back around. Sam was where he had left her, with a thoughtful look on her face. Jack couldn't resist returning to her, planting a quick kiss on her forehead and giving another good bye. "I mean it. Call me. Don't think too much. I'll see you later."

With that, Jack was gone, but this time he left with a smile on his face. Even if he didn't know where this was going, he felt good knowing that at least he'd made up his mind what he wanted. No more running. He was going to give this a shot, for real this time. He was also going to make amends with Daniel and T. This was where he belonged, and he thought that he just might give Washington those retirement papers after all.


	19. Chapter 19

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

It was three agonizing days before Jack's doorbell rang. There had been no phone call first. There had been no messages, no e-mails, no faxes…nothing.

Jack had been on pins and needles, wanting to call Carter for the past forty-eight hours at least, but he'd resisted the urge. He wanted Sam to come to her own decision, with no interference from him or anyone else.

When the chime rang, Jack nearly jumped out of his skin. He chided himself inwardly, telling himself it could be anyone at the door, but deep down he knew who would be there as surely as he knew his name.

As he opened the door, Jack wasn't disappointed. Samantha Carter stood before him in the afternoon sunlight looking radiantly beautiful in jeans and a loose fitting top. At first, Jack smiled at the sight he had been longing to see for the past few days, but his grin quickly fled.

Something was wrong. O'Neill sensed it immediately. Sam was nervous. She was fidgeting with her hands and her eyes looked everywhere but at him. Jack felt his heart hit the soles of his feet like someone had just weighed it down with a thousand little lead sinkers.

Jack knew what was coming before Sam spoke. He closed his eyes briefly, looked down, and took a deep breath before acknowledging his guest.

"Carter."

"Hi, sir."

And so it was. They were back to titles and formalities. Jack snuffed a tiny breath out his nose and his head gave the slightest nod. He didn't invite Carter in. He knew he didn't have to. Sam's next words only confirmed what O'Neill already knew in his tattered heart.

"I'm leaving, sir."

'No shit,' thought Jack. He wanted to try to change Sam's mind, but his brain seemed incapable of functioning at the moment, and he didn't want to hold Carter back. If this is what she wanted, he would let her go, even if it meant that he had to endure the pain of losing her again.

He said the only thing that came to mind.

"Huh. Where you going?" Jack's voice was higher than usual, and there was a rough edge to it.

Sam's eyes got a little wide at his casual response, but she answered calmly.

"South Carolina."

Now it was Jack's turn to get wide-eyed. "Excuse me?"

"South Carolina. I have a friend there. I just need to get out of here for a while. It's too hard to see the mountain, to know what goes on there and not be a part of it. It's been a part of me too long…I just have to go. Just for a while, you know, to clear my head, try to make sense of everything. I don't want this to be good-bye, Jack…really…I just need some time."

Jack heard Carter's words, but a growing sense of disbelief and dread was overpowering everything else in his mind, making it hard for him to actually comprehend what was happening. He had assumed Carter would take some sort of civilian position within the SGC, or maybe head to Area 51, or…well, something other than take off halfway across the country to just take some time off! Hadn't she had enough time off lately? Jack was at an utter loss for words, and he just stood there for at least a minute, staring back at Carter.

Finally, Jack found something similar to his voice, and mumbled one word in response.

"Ok."

"Sir?"

"You gotta do what you gotta do, Carter. I'm not going to stop you."

"Jack, it's not what you think. Really. I just need some time."

"Whatever, Carter. Just go. Whatever." Jack refused to look at Sam as he spoke, and his voice was very thick-sounding. Had Carter been able to get a good look at his eyes, she would have seen a bright sheen of tears that Jack refused to allow to fall.

"Jack…"

"Carter! Just go already. I understand what you're saying. Call me if you decide you want some company, but don't expect me to wait forever. We've waited a long time, Sam, and I'm the first to admit I've really screwed up a few times, but this is the real deal. Sink or swim. We can't keep playing this game forever." Jack's tone went from hurt to angry to resigned as he spoke.

Carter stood silent in the doorway for what seemed like an eternity, just staring at Jack in shocked surprise. Open, honest communication was not their strong suit, and she wasn't sure how to handle it.

After a minute, Jack reached out a hand for Carter's. Sam hesitantly took it, and Jack pulled her into a tight embrace. His words were startlingly calm and kind, even if they seemed a little sad.

"Be safe, Sam. Maybe I'll see you around."

Jack uttered the words, but he didn't really believe them. He knew Samantha Carter was walking out of his life, most likely for good. It didn't matter, though. He had to let her go. He couldn't force her to stay. He slowly released Sam from what felt like the last hug they would ever share, and as his heart shattered into a thousand pieces, he bodily turned Sam around and gave her a slight shove to her already packed car. Sam took the hint, and after one long glance over her shoulder, she shuffled to the vehicle and drove off down the road.

Jack O'Neill stood on his porch for a long time after her car had disappeared before finally turning and going inside, shutting his front door with a grunt.


	20. Chapter 20

**Note-This Chapter Contains Adult Language.**

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

Four days later, there was another knock on Jack's door.

He ignored it.

It wouldn't go away.

Jack rolled over and pulled a pillow down tight over his head, hoping to block the offending noise out. It didn't work. The knock kept repeating itself.

With a sigh, Jack sat up from where he'd been napping on his couch. As he prepared to just go answer the door so he could dismiss whoever it was, he noticed the insult had stopped.

No more knocking.

Jack flopped back down onto the couch, before realizing why his house was silent.

Daniel Jackson stood near the entrance to Jack's living room with a concerned look on his face. When no one answered his knocks on the door, Daniel had let himself in, and he was beginning to think that had been a very good decision.

Jack's house was a wreck, with empty beer bottles laying all around and pizza boxes stacked on top one another everywhere. Daniel wrinkled his nose in disgust at the smell of stale beer and unrefrigerated food that assailed him, and stepped into the living room.

"Jack?"

O'Neill groaned, but didn't move.

"Jack? You awake?"

"No, Daniel, I'm sleeping. Go away."

"Not falling for that one, Jack." Daniel smiled at his friend's attempt at humor.

"Whatever, have a seat then. Have a beer. What do I care?"

"Um, yeah. No, thanks, Jack. You know I don't really like beer. Besides, looks like you've had enough for both of us."

"Whatever."

"Jack, you missed a meeting. People are worried."

"Meeting?"

"Yeah…you…me…General Landry…some other important people at the SGC…remember that?"

"No."

"Why am I not surprised?" Daniel sighed heavily before continuing. "What's going on here, Jack? Does this have something to do with Sam?"

"Sam?"

"Yeah, Sam. You know…Samantha Carter…your former 2IC…friend of ours?"

Jack suddenly sat bolt upright and laughed out loud at Daniel's description. He laughed so hard that Daniel thought Jack had lost his mind.

"Jack? You ok? Maybe we should get you to the infirmary..."

"I don't need to go to the infirmary, Daniel."

"Then what's going on? You look like shit and smell even worse, and your leave is up tomorrow. This meeting was easy enough to postpone, since you weren't even officially due back yet, but…"

Daniel trailed off as he took in more of his friend's appearance. Jack looked haggard, old, and tired. So very tired. He had a few day's growth of beard on his face, and looked like he hadn't showered in days. His clothes were rumpled as if he'd been sleeping in them, and Jack was very, very drunk. As Jack reached for yet another bottle of Guinness in front of him, Daniel deftly swiped it away.

"I think you've had enough, Jack." Daniel's voice was determined.

"I'll decide when I've had enough, thank you, Daniel." Jack stood and grabbed for the bottle in Daniel's hand. His aim was off, and he missed by a least a foot. Daniel easily avoided a second attempt, and then looked patiently at his friend.

"You decide yet?"

Jack sighed in resignation and sat back down. "Fine. It's not worth arguing with you over it."

"Thank you. So, what's going on, Jack?" Daniel walked into the kitchen and came back with a bottle of water. He pressed it into Jack's hands before sitting down opposite him in one of the big living room chairs.

For a long moment, neither man spoke. It was obvious that Jack wasn't going to break the silence first, so Daniel pressed the issue.

"So, is this about Sam's trip?"

Jack looked up at Daniel then, confusion in his eyes.

"Trip?"

"Yeah, you know…Sam went to visit some friends back east for a while."

"That what she told you?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Jack laughed. "Carter isn't coming back, Daniel. You can bet on that."

Daniel looked shocked. "What? Why would you think that?"

"Just trust me, Daniel. She's not coming back. She gave me that 'I just need some space' bullshit, but…SHIT!" Jack exploded off the couch, violently flinging the water bottle through the air until it crashed into the wall above Daniel's head, bringing down a framed picture.

Jack didn't notice the damage his outburst had caused.

Jack didn't notice much of anything. He merely stood in the center of the room with his eyes clenched shut and trembled with a barely restrained rage. Daniel could nearly see the anger radiating off of Jack like heat from a street on a scorching summer day. Jack's hands were balled tightly into fists, and he kept pumping his arms up and down shakily while ragged breaths escaped his chest. Every muscle in Jack's body was stretched tight, and blood vessels threatened to burst out of the skin of Jack's neck and face.

Daniel had never seen Jack so angry, and it scared him a little. He sat very still in his chair and tried not to move. After a solid thirty seconds of seeing this behavior from Jack, Daniel finally tried to speak. He succeeded, but barely. His single word was a whisper.

"Jack?"

Jack's eyes popped open and he regarded Daniel without recognition for a microsecond.

Then, with a suddenness that was eerie to behold, Jack snapped. He began a diatribe of profanity that startled even Daniel a little.

"God dammit, Daniel! Why? Dammit! Why? SHIT! Why did I have to do it? Why? FUCK!"

As the expletives left Jack, so did his energy. It left him in the form of release. Jack jumped up and down in place, thudding his feet angrily on the floor as he cursed. His arms continued to pump and the entire routine would have been comical in a three year old child, but it was so very out of character for the grown man in front of him that Daniel was becoming increasingly concerned about his friend's health.

Jack calmed after a few minutes, and as yet another strong expletive left his mouth, he sunk to the floor. He ended up in a crouching fetal position with his head between his hands. He continued to murmur under his breath, and as Daniel approached warily to try to comfort his friend, the archeologist heard a quiet whisper that explained a great deal.

"Fuck. Why did I have to sleep with her? Fuck!"

Daniel's eyes widened in surprise, and he wisely controlled his urge to reach out and touch his friend. The words he'd just heard told him that Jack was likely an exposed nerve, and also made Sam's little 'trip' seem much less innocent. As Daniel levered himself onto the floor to sit cross-legged beside his self-hugging friend, he asked for confirmation of what he already knew. His voice was quiet, and he didn't really expect a response, but Daniel knew he had to try to get Jack to deal with this, or his friend would likely self-destruct.

"Sam?"

Jack shocked Daniel by answering, in a nearly normal voice. "Yes, Daniel, who else?"

"Just making sure we're on the same page."

"We are. For once."

"You ok?"

Jack snorted a rough laugh. "Do I look like I'm ok?"

Jack's response told Daniel that Jack was beyond inebriated. A sober O'Neill would never have admitted that he wasn't 'fine'. Daniel was somewhat glad that alcohol had loosened Jack's tongue. It would make his job a whole lot easier.

"When did it happen?"

"A week ago yesterday."

'Damn,' thought Daniel. 'He's keeping track. This is even worse than I thought.'

"You talk to Sam since she left?"

"Nope."

"Jesus, Jack."

Jack hadn't moved from his pathetic crouch on the floor yet, but as Daniel spoke he pushed himself upwards and one arm snaked out to grab the front of Daniel's shirt. Jack pulled the younger man towards him until their faces were mere centimeters apart.

"Don't you dare judge me, Daniel."

Daniel shoved Jack backwards and away from him to escape Jack's putrid breath. "I'm not…just…what the hell are you doing?"

"She said she wanted some time. I'm just giving it to her."

"You guys talk at all before she left?"

Jack shrugged. "A little."

"How'd you leave it?"

Another shrug. "Up to her."

"And she left."

"Yep."

Daniel looked puzzled at Jack's nonplussed response. "That's it, then?"

"Pretty much."

Daniel muttered under his breath. "Jesus, Jack."

"What? Why do you keep saying that?"

"You're just going to let her go, aren't you?"

"What other choice do I have?"

"Go after her, Jack."

"What?"

"You heard me. Suck it up and go after her."

"No way."

"Why not?"

"She has to figure out for herself what she wants. I can't do it for her." As Jack spoke, he abruptly stood up and began to pace the living room. Daniel soon followed Jack's lead and stood as well, trying to get his friend's attention.

"Jack."

The pacing didn't stop. "What?"

"Jack. Look at me."

The pacing stopped, but Jack didn't look at Daniel. Instead, he flopped himself back onto the couch wearily. "Dammit, Daniel, what is it that you want here?"

Daniel knelt in front of Jack and answered simply. "Look at me."

Jack closed his eyes and sighed deeply. When he opened his eyes, Jack leaned back on the couch, crossed his arms, and gave Daniel a mock smile. "Alright, fine. What is it that you want to say, Dannyboy?"

Jack's voice was laced with acid, and his sarcasm angered Daniel. Daniel's voice took on an edge as he spoke his next words, and he was brutally honest.

"You and I both know that's a cop out. You just don't want to admit that you need her." 

"Fuck you, Daniel."

Jack's words pushed Daniel over the edge of anger into rage. "No, fuck you, Jack! You're the one who ran out on us! TWICE! You deserve this! How dare you act all melodramatic when somebody gives you a taste of your own medicine!"

Jack's body responded before his mind had time to think. He launched himself off the couch and knocked the crouching Daniel backward to the floor. Daniel instinctively responded to the attack, bringing his knees up and kicking Jack off of him. Jack rolled with Daniel's blow, and fought back. Both men lost themselves in the violence of the moment, and neither pulled any punches as they brawled their way across the floor.


	21. Chapter 21

**Note-This Chapter Contains Adult Language.**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE**

Jack realized what was going on first. Even in his intoxicated state, Jack came to quickly and when he recognized Daniel's face on his opponent, he stopped the blow that was about to connect to Daniel's midsection.

Daniel had no such restraint. He had simply lost his mind in the fight, and tears were streaming down his face as he punched at Jack. He kept babbling to himself, and his words tore at what was left of Jack's heart with a fierceness that left Jack exhausted.

"You left us. You just left us. You took another job and never looked back to see if we were ok. As if we could be expected to just go on without you."

All the older man could do against the onslaught that was Daniel Jackson was wrap his arms as tightly as possible around the younger man's torso and start screaming.

"DANIEL!!!"

As his name rang through the house like some sort of magical spell, Daniel suddenly shook his head and looked around. He appeared to be confused, and when he realized that he was engaged in a fistfight with Jack O'Neill, Daniel suddenly backed away from Jack with panic in his eyes.

"Jack?"

"Yeah. It's me."

"What's going on?"

"We had a little…disagreement…"

"Yeah…right…I remember now…"

The two men who loved and fought like brothers both looked around the room now, at the damage they had caused. Jack's coffee table was broken, and several picture frames were shattered, but the damage didn't seem too bad.

Until the men regarded one another.

Jack's nose was bleeding freely, and Daniel's left eye was rapidly swelling shut. Both men had several new scrapes and bruises. As the friends regarded each other, nervous laughs escaped both of them, and they looked at each other with mischievous eyes.

Daniel spoke first.

"You ok?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Yeah."

"Cool. Why don't you go get cleaned up. I'll make us some coffee."

Daniel nodded. "Ok."

Fifteen minutes later, Daniel and Jack had both washed up a little, and as Jack was about to pour two steaming cups of coffee, Daniel came into the kitchen. Jack looked up to see him enter, and he set the coffee pot back on the machine, suddenly not trusting himself to hold it.

Daniel noticed.

"Jack? You ok?"

"Yeah."

"You sure?"

Jack was silent a long time after the question. He stared at the black liquid in the glass pot in front of him for a long minute before whispering a response.

"I was promoted, Daniel."

Daniel didn't pretend not to understand that Jack was responding to his verbal attack earlier.

"You didn't have to accept the job, Jack."

"I didn't just leave, Daniel."

"You never came back."

"I tried."

"You never visited, you hardly ever called."

"It was hard for me."

"It took Sam nearly killing herself to get you back here."

"I know. And I'm sorry. I really am. But did it ever occur to you that I left because it was just too damn hard to stay?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I couldn't take it. Every time you guys went through that gate, I had no idea what was going to happen on the other side. I didn't know if you'd come back, and there was NOTHING I could do about it. I had to stand by and let you go. Do you have any idea how hard that was on me?"

"I tried not to think about it."

"Yeah, well, I tried that, too, but it didn't work. The thought that I might lose you, all of you, and I wouldn't even be there...it killed me. It's not that I wanted to go. I just couldn't take it. When they offered me the job in Washington, I jumped at the chance to get away from the worry."

"I understand that, I do. But why didn't you stay in touch? With any of us?"

"I tried. I really did. I came back as often as I could at first. You know that. But...damn, Daniel. It was even harder than being at the SGC. Coming back, hearing snippets of your lives, knowing I was no longer a real part of them...damn...it just plain sucked, Daniel. Do you have any idea what it was like for me to watch a new SG-1 moving on? To have to pretend it didn't matter to me? I felt like a fucking fifth wheel!"

"That why you stopped seeing Sam?"

"Shit, Daniel, I don't know why that went to hell. It just did. I still don't understand it, and I probably never will. I just know that I regret it...a lot...I liked being with her...I really did...it just...I don't know...shit!"

"You say any of this to Sam?"

Jack snorted. "No."

Daniel's voice was gentle. "Why not?"

"It's not that simple, Daniel."

"Why not?"

"It just isn't."

"You're talking to me."

"That's different."

"Why?"

"Because you're you. And it case you haven't noticed, I'm more than a little drunk, Dannyboy."

Daniel thought again how in this one case he didn't think that was such a bad thing, as he knew there was no way Jack would open up like this without a little alcoholic lubrication of his tongue.

"That you are. Speaking of which, how about some of that coffee now?"

Jack nodded and obliged, filling both cups on the counter with black brew.

As the two men sat down at the table to drink, they were quiet, lost in thought briefly.

Daniel broke the silence after a few minutes.

"Sorry about your nose."

Jack laughed a tiny laugh. "Ah, it's nothing. Sorry about your eye."

"No biggie."

"We good?"

"Yeah, we're good."

Silence fell again and remained in force until both coffees were finished. As Jack regarded the bottom of his empty cup, he looked pensive. Daniel simply waited, resting his head on his hands on the table and nearly dozing, knowing that if Jack wanted to reveal his thoughts, only time would make him do so. When Jack finally spoke, his quiet voice startled Daniel.

"You really think I should do it?"

Daniel was confused at first. "Do what?"

"Go after Carter."

Daniel shrugged. "That depends. Do you want to?"

Jack's response came quickly, and the strength of emotion in his voice made Daniel look up in mild shock.

"Oh, yeah."

"Then what's the problem?"

"Daniel..."

"No, really, Jack...if you want her...go get her."

"I don't want to force anything. I want her to come back on her own. I finally did..."

"Yes, you did. And I'm proud of you for that. But did it ever occur to you that Sam might WANT you to come after her? That this might be a way for her to test you?"

"What?"

"Let's face it, Jack, you don't have the world's greatest record when it comes to actually letting people in. Maybe this is Sam's way of finding out if you're serious this time."

"I told her I was."

"Actions speak louder than words, Jack."

"Yeah, we're living proof of that, huh?"

Daniel laughed a little, taking in the injuries between the two friends.

"Apparently...seriously, though, Jack...you should at least call her."

"Don't know where she is."

"Um...she still has an emergency transponder, doesn't she?"

"I don't know. Besides, I can't use that."

Daniel tried his best to look innocent.

"And why not?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

"It's against the regs, for one thing."

"Like you haven't bent the rules a little before."

"This is different. I can't just go invading her privacy like that. She'd kill me."

"I bet she'd be ok with it. Besides, anything has got to be better than living like this, Jack. You can't keep going like this forever."

"I can try."

"Yeah, that worked real well for you with Charlie, didn't it?" Daniel's voice began to take on an edge of anger again. He was tired of watching Jack's self destruction.

If anyone other than Daniel Jackson had dredged up memories of Jack's son at a time like this, Jack probably would've killed them. But Daniel had been there when Jack was in the darkest place he had ever been in his life, and whether he knew it or not, it was Daniel who had brought Jack out of that dark place. Skaara had been the first person to force Jack to step onto the path toward healing, but Daniel had kept him there.

Daniel Jackson had waltzed through Jack's barriers and made him confront his demons, and Jack loved him for it. He had resisted the younger man's friendship at first, and he still wasn't the best at expressing his feelings for Daniel, but Jack loved him more than life itself, and so Daniel could be forgiven for mentioning Charlie.

But just because Daniel was allowed to bring up Jack's son didn't mean that Jack didn't respond with venom.

"Don't you dare bring Charlie into this!"

"Why not, Jack? Can't take the truth?"

"What truth? This isn't the same!"

"Isn't it?"

"What are you talking about, Daniel?"

"When Charlie died, you shut down completely, Jack. I might not have known you before then, but I didn't need anything to compare to to know that the man I met eleven years ago on Abydos was the walking dead. You didn't care about anyone or anything except your pain. It ruled you, Jack. You went through something no parent should have to experience. Ever. And I'm sorry, Jack. I really am. But the way you shut everyone out who cared about you or who tried to help you cost you too much. And you know it."

Daniel's not-so-veiled reference to Jack's failed marriage to Sara was not misunderstood. Jack's next words were as cold as ice.

"So what's your point, Daniel?"

"I just don't want to see you make the same mistake again."

Jack sat unmoving and staring at his friend for a full thirty seconds. Neither man spoke as blue eyes stood up to brown, showing honest compassion. Finally, a cracking voice made a request so full of pleading that it couldn't be ignored.

"Let her in, Jack."

"I don't know if I can, Daniel."

"How can you not? I saw how you gave up every free minute of your time while she was in rehab to keep her house and yard spic and span. I mean, the time you spent keeping up her flowers alone was astronomical. You hardly slept when she was away so that you could stay here and still work. You did everything you could to keep your trips to Washington minimal. You could've hired someone else to do the house and yard work, but you didn't. You did it yourself. Ever think about why, Jack? Why did it matter to you? God, Jack, why can't you just admit how much she means to you? I saw you when you first visited her in the hospital after her accident. I've seen you a hundred times since, with that look in your eye that any idiot can see means more than you let on. And I can see you now. You can't keep living like this, Jack. You have to either let her go or let her in. Your choice."

Jack didn't respond to Daniel's diatribe right away, and when he did, it was with depressed resignation. "God, I'm tired."

Jack's sudden change of subject caught Daniel off guard at first. "What?"

"I'm tired."

"Ok..."

"I'm going to bed."

"Um...ok...Jack?"

"Huh?"

"What are you going to do?"

"Don't know yet. I'll tell ya in the morning. I'm tired."

Jack walked off toward the bedroom then, but he didn't make it far.

When Daniel rose from the table after a few minutes of contemplation, he found Jack passed out on the couch, still fully clothed and looking very uncomfortable in a sprawled position on his stomach.

Daniel sighed loudly and complained to his unconscious friend.

"Oh, Jack. What are we going to do with you?"

Daniel shook his head as he spoke, and then began to arrange Jack into a more suitable position for long term sleeping. He rolled the slightly larger man over with a grunt and then went and found a blanket. As Daniel tucked the edges of the blanket over his friend's shoulders, he shook his head again in sad frustration before turning away to find another cover. When he'd completed his task, Daniel stepped outside for a minute. He made a quick phone call, then returned to Jack's side. As Daniel made himself as comfortable as he could in the closest chair to his friend, he settled in for the night. He was tired enough that sleep soon came, despite the awkwardness of sleeping in a chair, but his last thoughts were of his conversation with Jack tonight and how he only hoped he had convinced Jack to go find Sam and bring her back here, where she belonged. It was that simple in Daniel's mind. Sam belonged with Jack, and Jack belonged close to Daniel and Teal'c. The four of them were family, and Daniel wanted them together again, by any means necessary.


	22. Chapter 22

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO**

Jack O'Neill woke early the next morning to the tinny sounds of tinkling glass.

As he hazarded cracking one eye open, his already pounding head protested violently and a groan escaped his lips involuntarily.

"Morning, sunshine."

Jack's other eye opened to give Daniel Jackson a look that would have set wet moss on fire.

Daniel stood across the room with a broom in one hand and a dustpan full of glass shards in the other. He looked only a tiny bit apologetic as he spoke again.

"Sorry. Figured it'd be best to get all this glass picked up before we walked around too much. Otherwise, it'd only be a matter of time before one of us gets cut."

Jack grunted in response and rolled over on the couch.

As he did so, his gut decided to let him know that it was just as displeased as his head with his recent choice of beverages. As a wave of nausea rolled in and then out, Jack groaned again.

Daniel couldn't help smiling a little bit at his friend's plight. He sympathized, but only so much. Jack had done this to himself, so it was hard to feel too bad for the guy.

"Bit hung over, huh?"

"A bit."

"You think you're gonna want breakfast?"

"That would be a no, Daniel."

"Well, too bad. Teal'c's on his way over now with some food."

"Food? I figured I'd just have a beer if I had anything at all."

"Jack, you've had enough beer to last a lifetime in the last week. You're having some food."

"Don't mother me, Daniel."

"Then stop acting like you need one. Now go get cleaned up. You smell terrible, and it'll make you feel better. I'll take care of the rest of this." Daniel gestured at the mess of Jack's living room as he spoke.

Jack felt the briefest surge of anger at Daniel's words at first, but it was quickly replaced by a sense of gratitude. Not everyone had a friend who would care enough to take care of them in a time like this, especially not when their only thanks was sarcasm and a shiner.

As Jack remembered the previous night, he looked around his living room and nodded slowly. He made a small snorting noise, then looked up at Daniel with an unreadable expression.

Daniel furrowed his brow back at his friend. "What?"

"Nothing...it's just...well...thanks."

"No problem. Now go get cleaned up. I got this. Go on."

"Thanks."

Daniel nodded and went back to his cleaning as Jack ever so gradually sat up. After the room stopped spinning, the hung over general made his way slowly to the bathroom.

XXX

A shower and shave did help. Although he still felt way less than human, Jack's headache had subsided to a dull roar and his nausea was only a moderate irritation as he struggled into a faded pair of jeans and pulled a large sweatshirt over his head.

When he was dressed, Jack ran a hand through his spiky hair in a losing battle to tame it, then brushed his teeth to remove the stale beer taste from his mouth.

As he finished and emerged from the bathroom, Jack nearly turned right back around as the smell of scrambled eggs caused a new wave of nausea hit him, but he pushed the feeling away and continued on to the kitchen to see what was going on. There was no telling what Daniel was up to in there.

Jack entered the kitchen just in time to see Teal'c whispering quietly to Daniel. When he entered the room, both men immediately quieted and began to look around innocently.

"What are you two up to?"

"Nothing."

"Daniel Jackson and I were merely discussing which of the breakfast food that I purchased on the way here would be preferable for you this morning."

As he spoke Teal'c's eyes were teasingly merry, and Jack sneered back at him.

"Yeah, I'll bet. Ok, wise guy. What did you bring?"

"Taquitos and burritos."

"Oy. I think I'll just have coffee."

"Indeed."

Daniel was enjoying Teal'c's teasing of Jack, but he thought he would let Jack off the hook.

"Actually, we made you toast, Jack. You can eat it if you want, but I'm starving. The Mexican is for me and Teal'c."

"Ah, I can handle it."

"Whatever you say, Jack. Food's behind you on the table. I'm going to eat."

"As am I, O'Neill."

Jack turned around then and noticed for the first time that two bags of breakfast take out and a plate with two slices of toast were sitting at three places on his kitchen table.

It was very domestic, and Jack laughed out loud.

Daniel was afronted. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just been a pretty long time since somebody made me breakfast."

"Well, we thought you might need it."

"Yeah...you're probably right."

The three men ate then, in silence. Teal'c and Daniel were too hungry to talk much as they packed away several taquitos and burritos each, and Jack's head hurt too much for talk as he forced himself to eat a few bites of toast.

When the eating slowed down, Daniel looked pointedly at the big Jaffa sitting across from him. Jack didn't miss the expression, and he knew something was going on.

"What?"

"I believe Daniel Jackson thinks it is time that I revealed to you why I am here."

"You didn't just come to bring breakfast?"

"I did not."

As Jack looked from Teal'c to Daniel, a sinking feeling began to build in the pit of his stomach.

"Why do I get the feeling that you guys are up to something?"

"There is indeed more going on here than appears at first look, O'Neill."

"Great." Jack's voice was sarcastic.

Both Teal'c and Daniel ignored Jack's response and looked at one another briefly. At Daniel's encouraging nod, Teal'c removed a legal sized yellow envelope of papers from his lap and set them on the table in front of Jack.

"What's this?"

"Samantha Carter does indeed still carry an emergency locator transponder, at the insistence of General Landry. She is likely still a potential target for our enemies, who will not know of recent events here, so she is still granted full protection of the SGC. I took the liberty of locating Colonel Carter yesterday evening...out of concern for her welfare, of course."

Teal'c didn't bat an eye at his statement, but Jack's eyebrows hit the roof.

"WHAT?"

Daniel decided now was a good time to join this conversation.

"Jack, calm down. Teal'c and I just thought that this might be useful information."

"Indeed. Daniel Jackson phoned me last night. He told me of the current situation with Colonel Carter, and I agreed with his decision to break protocol in this case."

"I can't believe you guys did this."

"We did not. Sergeant Harriman was most helpful."

"Jesus, you guys brought Walter in on this?"

"His assistance was required."

Jack sighed, and put his head in his hands.

"I am so screwed."

Teal'c spoke again, making this morning notable for Jack. He had never seen the Jaffa quite so wordy or Daniel so quiet. "Your situation is indeed unenviable, O'Neill, but I believe your choices are limited and the decision is an easy one. You must find Colonel Carter and settle this matter between yourselves."

Daniel nodded his agreement. "Go get her, Jack."

Jack sighed again and glanced at the clock. This little breakfast chat had occurred quite early. It was only just now 0800. Suddenly, Jack remembered Daniel's first words from the previous night and he jumped up from his chair. "Shit! I can't do this! I have to work!"

Daniel stood, too, and laid a restraining hand on Jack's arm. "No, you don't."

"What? My leave ended today. I'm supposed to be back in Washington tonight."

"Let's just say that a certain General Landry arranged otherwise. Jack, you've earned the time. Take it. Fix this. You'll never forgive yourself if you don't."

Jack knew defeat when he saw it. Between Daniel's unwavering blue eyes and Teal'c's certain brown ones, he knew there was only one thing he could do, even if it was something he was most definitely NOT looking forward to.

"Alright. I'll think about it, ok? Now, don't you guys have jobs to do?"

"Actually, I do have a nine o'clock meeting with Dr. Lee. He wants me to look at something SG-13 found on P8X-453..." Daniel trailed off as he lost himself in thought about the Ancient artifact he was supposed to study. A cloudy look came into his eye, and both Jack and Teal'c knew he was in his own world.

Jack chuckled, but Daniel didn't notice, and Teal'c merely inclined his head to Jack.

"I, too, must be going, O'Neill. I need to meet Colonel Mitchell to discuss a new training regimen we are developing for SGC personnel."

"Guess I'm flying solo again, huh?" Jack looked down at the papers in front of him coincidentally as he spoke, and as he did, he was struck by the irony of his words.

Solo, indeed.

Daniel came back to reality at Jack's words and looked thoughtfully at his friend.

"Maybe not, Jack. But I think that's up to you."

Teal'c agreed. "Indeed."

Daniel and Teal'c stood then and made their goodbyes. Daniel was still a little nervous about leaving Jack alone, but he knew that Jack would never actually leave if he and Teal'c stuck around, so he left, throwing one last long look over his shoulder as he followed Teal'c to the driveway and shut the door behind him.

Jack sighed.

The noise of it was loud in the now empty house.

Long fingers drummed nervously on the yellow envelope full of papers on the table.

Brown eyes stared at the tapping digits.

The drumming stopped.

Jack moved, and hands tore into the envelope.


	23. Chapter 23

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE**

A lone figure stood under a palm tree on a sandy beach and admired the view.

The man was looking at a small beach house. It was a single story affair, painted a very pretty shade of blue and featuring a covered wraparound porch that looked perfect for ocean and people watching. The screen door leading into the house was closed, but the stout front door behind it was open, letting the ocean breeze flow through the house, and letting the man know someone was home.

He stood there, watching, for a long time. If anyone noticed his presence, they took no action.

The beach was nearly empty. It was late in the season, and only a few hardy locals were braving the cooling waters. A sudden breeze came in off the waves, and the man shivered a little.

His movement broke his stillness, and he looked around casually. He thought the weather was simply grand, and on a whim he suddenly kicked off his shoes. As he reached down to remove his socks and put one roll into the hem of his jeans, he thought that under any other circumstances he might really enjoy a trip to a place like this.

When he was done, he stood and wriggled his toes in the sand. It felt wonderful.

Jack O'Neill had always liked the edge of the water. Any water. This place was no different, and he could see why Carter had chosen it for her getaway.

Jack closed his eyes and sighed as he thought of Carter-the reason for his trip.

He was nervous, and didn't really know if he wanted to do what he had come to do, but he had come this far, so he figured there was no sense in backing out now.

Ten toes wriggled a final time in the sand, and then the body attached to them started to walk purposefully toward the little blue house with the awesome porch.

Jack hesitated at the steps of the porch, but he gripped the rail for only a second before swallowing his fear and his pride and continuing up the three stairs to the door.

It was too late to change his mind. He'd made his decision at the palm tree. He knocked on the frame of the screen door with gusto and waited with bated breath.

An eternity passed before Jack heard a slow shuffle coming from inside the house.

The shuffle became louder gradually, and finally the source of the sound was revealed. Jack had been staring at the floor through the door as he knocked, and the first part of the person coming towards him that he saw was a pair of pink fuzzy slippers dragging slowly over the floor. As his gaze traveled upward, he took in loose fleece pants below a dark blue bathrobe. Finally, on top of this ensemble, was a very tousled blond head. One hand rubbed at one eye. The woman had obviously been sleeping, and she was having a difficult time returning to the land of the living.

Jack smiled in spite of his nervousness. Carter looked adorable.

As she swiped at her face drowsily, Sam groggily called out. "Coming."

The hand fell away from the face as the words came out, and sleepy eyes were awake and wary instantly as Sam saw who was at the door.

To say she was surprised would have been putting it mildly. She was shocked.

Carter's mouth opened as her feet stopped her body a full five feet from the door. Her jaw moved up and down a few times, but no sound came out her mouth.

Jack took a nervous breath and his eyes met Sam's.

The two people regarded each other for a time before the woman finally spoke.

"Sir? What are you doing here?"

Her voice was half confused and half angry. A part of Sam couldn't figure out how Jack had found her here at an old friend's summer beach house halfway across the country, and a part didn't care. The second part was just angry that he'd come at all and in doing so had violated her wishes to be left alone for a while to try to sort some things out. If another part of her was glad to see the man on the porch, it was silent now.

Jack tried to play off his presence with a joke. "Oh, you know, Carter...I was just in the neighborhood. Thought I'd stop by. See how you were."

The joke did nothing to lighten the mood.

"I'm fine," replied Carter in a cold voice.

"Ok."

It was quiet for a long while after Jack's brief, defeated response.

Two sets of ice cold eyes stared at each other for a moment, but the brown ones lost, and Jack looked down at his bare feet on the sandy porch while desperately wondering what to do next. Carter's voice finally shattered the deathly quiet.

"Is there something else I can do for you, sir?" Sam's voice was brave and detached, trying to let Jack know that it wasn't ok for him to just show up like this, but her insides were a roiling mass of emotion. She was still angry and confused, but the part of her that was thrilled to see Jack was beating the other emotions down and becoming stronger with each passing second. Sam was glad the door was separating her and Jack, as otherwise she thought she wouldn't have been strong enough to resist him, and she still needed a little time to decide what she wanted to do with her life right now.

The coldness of Sam's voice cut Jack like a knife, and his first thought was to turn and flee. He wanted to say something like 'nope, guess I'll be going now', but as the words began to form on his tongue, Daniel's words from two nights ago came back to him.

'Let her in, Jack. Let her in or let her go.'

The calm good bye left Jack like water slicks off a duck's back. As the tide began to rise behind him, adding an almost too tranquil background noise to the conversation, Jack O'Neill swallowed his pride and opened himself up to injury as he had only a few times before.

"Yeah, there is, Sam. You might be ok here, but...I'm not."

The use of her given name was not lost on Sam, and hearing it surprised her, but the rest of Jack's words flabbergasted her. Jack, as in Jack O'Neill, as in her former CO, had just admitted that he wasn't ok. Sam couldn't believe her ears. She stood rooted to the floor and just stared at the man on her porch in amazed shock.

Jack began to figet nervously when Carter didn't respond to his admission. He began to think again that he had made a mistake, but it was getting damned irritating to talk through a screen door, so he tried to change his situation.

"Look, Carter…just…look…can I come in?"

Sam's response was quick and decisive.

"No."

Jack's eyes clamped shut involuntarily and a short huff of breath came out his nose. He had to fight a rising taste of bile in his mouth as his stomach violently churned. His heart felt like it had been speared with a long sharp needle while his brain taunted him. 'I told you so,' it yelled over and over. Jack wanted to find Daniel and Teal'c and throttle them for convincing him to do this.

Jack was so lost in his own world of overwhelming emotion that he nearly didn't hear Sam speak again. Her voice was still strong, but it had taken on a softer note of thoughtfullness.

"But I'll come out there."

Jack shook his head, trying to comprehend what Sam had spoken.

"What?"

"I'll come out there."

"For what?"

"I walk every night. It's good for me. It takes me a long time to get to the point and back, but it's worth it, and every night it gets a little easier."

Sam nodded her head toward a rocky outcropping about a quarter mile down the beach as she explained, and Jack noticed the natural seawall for the first time.

"Oh. Well, I'll leave you to it, then."

Sam sighed. "No. It's ok. Walk with me."

"What?"

"Walk with me."

"Oh, I thought…well…"

"Jack, walk with me."

"You don't mind?"

"No."

"You sure?"

"Yes…unless you don't want to?" Uncertainty crept into Sam's voice as she spoke this time. She had thought Jack wanted to talk, but now she wasn't sure. He sure seemed uncomfortable with the idea of taking a stroll, and Sam became self conscious.

Jack's response was a series of uncharacteristic stammers. "No. I mean yes. I mean…I want to go with you. I just…you seemed pretty pissed when you saw me here."

"Yeah, well, I wasn't expecting it." As Sam spoke, she pulled off her bathrobe, revealing a light blue tee-shirt underneath. She slid her feet out of her slippers and stepped outside as Jack apologized for his sudden appearance.

"Sorry."

"It's ok. Let's walk before it gets dark. It can get chilly after the sun goes down. Come on. You're already dressed for this, I see." Sam smiled down at Jack's bare feet.

Jack smiled a genuine smile. He set his shoes down on the porch while Sam rolled up her fleece pants a few times. When she was finished, Jack looked at her questioningly.

"You ready?"

"Yes, sir. Let's go."

"Lead the way."

Sam nodded once, then turned and slowly descended the three steps to the sand. When her feet hit the still warm sand, she sighed and began to slowly walk to the end of the beach.

Jack O'Neill followed, careful not to pass Sam, who still shuffled while she walked and had to go at a slow pace. Jack was amazed at how far Sam had come, but he knew she still beat herself up about not being completely normal. Her standards were high for everyone, but those she held for herself were impossibly so. Jack sighed and hoped that one day Sam would learn to be comfortable in her own body, even with its imperfections.


	24. Chapter 24

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR**

Jack didn't mind the slow pace of the walk up the beach. It was beautiful here, and his company made it even more so. He was thoroughly enjoying being with Sam.

He hadn't realized that her mere presence was enough to calm him.

They walked in silence for a long time. Sam was lost in thought, and Jack was simply lost. The ocean, the sand, the woman beside him, the few low clouds in the sky, the sinking sun…all of it combined to overwhelm his senses. He had been to heaven and hell in the last two weeks, and he didn't know where to go next. He had no idea what, if anything, he wanted to say to Carter. He just knew that he was happy in the moment.

It was Carter who finally broke the silence, just as they reached the rocks of the point.

"You know, this place really has been good for me."

Jack's insides grew slightly chilly as he heard Sam's words, thinking she'd really been enjoying being alone here, but despite his worry, he couldn't deny that Sam seemed to be doing very well.

"I can see that. You look good."

"I feel good, sir."

'There's that 'sir' again,' thought Jack. 'That can't be good.' The chill in his gut got a little colder as he muttered a response.

"Oh."

The hurt and disappointment Jack was feeling must have come out in his voice, because Sam suddenly stopped walking and turned to face him.

"I meant what I said, you know."

Jack was confused. "What?"

"Before I left Colorado. I meant what I said. This isn't all about you."

Sam's voice was taking on an edge of anger again, and Jack was even more confused.

"What?"

"You think you can just show up and things will suddenly be ok? You think this is all about you? Or us? Well, it's not. I don't know what's going to happen here, Jack! I have a lot to think about! I have more than a few decisions to make right now! You and I are just one aspect of that! Come to think of it, how did you find me here?" 

Jack had the good grace to look chagrined. "Emergency transponder?"

"You didn't."

Jack sortof smiled. At least he didn't have to take the blame himself on this one. "Actually, no. I didn't. Our friendly neighborhood Jaffa helped me out, or more accurately forced me out."

"Teal'c?"

"Yep. Although Daniel had a hand in it, too, and apparently I need to talk to a certain Sergeant about not using SGC equipment for personal use."

Sam put a hand to her forehead. "Walter."

"You got it."

Sam's anger had dissipated and she merely sighed. "What are we going to do with them?"

Jack sighed back. "I don't know, but I bet we can think of something. Come on, let's finish this walk. We can talk about that later."

"Ok."

Two sets of legs began moving again, returning their owners to the house. They were about halfway there when Sam spoke carefully.

"You know, I meant the rest of it, too."

"Huh?"

"The part about not wanting to say good-bye."

"Got a funny way of showing it."

"Jack, this really isn't about us. I simply don't know what to do right now…about anything."

Sam's voice was quiet and there was no trace of anger in it. There was only a melancholy so deep it was palpable. Jack didn't interrupt as Sam continued.

"I mean, everything I know is gone, Jack. Everything. I mean, I've been going through the gate for over a quarter of my life. I don't know if I can live without it. Before that, I was working on the information needed to get us through the gate. I know I can do the lab work now, but I just don't know if I can be around it, constantly being reminded of what I'm missing…what I've lost. When I was at Area 51 a few years ago, I went nuts. I couldn't take it there. I don't want to go back there. I've been in the Air Force since I was born, Jack…how can I live without it? When you add this thing with us to the mix…Jesus…what am I going to do?"

Sam's voice nearly broke several times while she talked, and her eyes threatened to spill tears at any moment, but she maintained control of her emotions. Jack was silent, ruminating on her words, when the pair came upon an empty set of beach chairs.

Jack sighed and slowed down a bit before finally stopping entirely. He looked out over the nearly calm sea for a moment before he leaned on the back of one of the chairs and spoke.

"Carter, I don't pretend to know where this is going. I'm not gonna lie to you and say that it's gonna to be easy for you to adjust to life on the outside or say that I'm sure you'd get used to a civilian position in time. You won't. I know you. You'll miss it. Probably for a long time. Maybe forever. It's gonna suck, Carter, especially at first, and I'm sorry…I really am…but all you can do is make the best of it and move on. Some days won't be so bad, and those days will get more and more frequent until before you know it, you're pretty much ok. Maybe I can help you with this, maybe I can't…but I'd like the chance to find out…if you'll let me."

Sam sat down on the empty chair next to Jack's as he finished his speech. She was floored by his honesty. This was the first time someone had acknowledged that her life was going to be different now, and Sam appreciated it. Jack wasn't feeding her some line about how things were going to be just fine and how before long it would be like nothing happened. She mumbled a response.

"It won't be easy…"

"Never said it would be, Carter. Most things that are worth anything aren't."

"I can't lose you again…as my friend…" 

"Sam, I can't promise that won't happen, and you know that. Neither one of us has a stellar track record with relationships, and it's a risk, but it's one I'm finally willing to take. It's a big one, but anything is better than not knowing about this. We've danced around it too long. I can't do it anymore. Like I said the other night, sink or swim."

Jack came around the back of his chair and sat next to Sam, looking out past his bare toes to the sunset beyond. It was a beautiful evening, with the sun shooting red, pink, and purple fireworks across the horizon in a dazzling display of nature's flare for the dramatic.

When Sam didn't respond, Jack continued, looking at Carter out of the corner of his eye, knowing by the thoughtful look on her face that she was listening. And thinking way too much, as usual.

"I might hurt you, Carter. You might hurt me. This might not work out. We might hate each other forever, but I'm willing to take that risk to find out if we can make this work. I kept waiting for this to go away on it's own, but you know it won't. I'm tired of playing this game."

Sam snorted and agreed. "We do have some history, Jack."

"Carter, let's face it. We both have our issues. We both hide behind walls that we built up so long ago that it won't be easy to tear them down, but maybe we won't have to. Maybe we could find some way to go around them. Find our own way."

It was silent a long moment, and Jack began to think he'd said too much, when finally Sam's contemplative look was slowly replaced by a genuine smile and she spoke.

"We could decorate them, sir."

Jack shook his head and blinked, genuinely confused. "What?"

"The walls. We could decorate them."

There had been no romance movie declaration of love. There had been no running into each other's arms. There hadn't even been a kiss, but somewhere on the coast of Carolina, Sam's words began a cascade that made walls begin to fall. Those that wouldn't budge now might crumble with the passage of time, and those that were too fortified to ever be brought down could be gone around somehow, or made less ugly with the decoration of acceptance. The barriers would challenge the two souls that were now beginning to explore each other in earnest, but they were part of the deal, and both accepted the other's flaws without judgment.

Jack laughed out loud and reached out a hand to Sam. She took it, and two hands bridged the gap between two beach chairs naturally. As the sun slowly sank under the horizon, two minds wandered, wondering where the future would take them.

The simple truth was that they didn't know. Neither Jack nor Sam harbored any delusions that their lives would be all sunshine and rainbows now, but they'd take it one day at a time. That was all they could do. Problems like theirs didn't go away overnight, but today had been a good day. Maybe tomorrow would be, too.


	25. Chapter 25

**EPILOGUE**

A man and a woman sat in two beach chairs, holding hands across the space between them in the dusk of a beautiful Carolina sunset.

It was a long time before either of them spoke, but finally the woman broke the silence.

"I just have one question."

The man's stomach flip-flopped twice before settling enough to allow him to speak.

"What?"

"Been meaning to ask you since you showed up here, actually."

The man's nervousness ratcheted up to near panic, and his voice rose almost an octave as he repeated his question.

"What?"

"Have you been fighting?"

The man huffed a laugh, and his panic dispelled like a drop of food coloring in the ocean.

"Well, that's a long story…"

The woman looked at the man pensively for a moment before she responded with a wry smile.

"I think I have time for a long story."

The man smiled widely and naturally. "I suppose that's true…"

The pair stood then by unspoken mutual agreement and turned away from the ocean. They began to leave the beach behind them in favor of the house in front of them. The man started to explain why his nose was swollen and his knuckles were bruised.

It wasn't the only story told that night, and explanations for many, many things saw the light of day. Two souls were laid bare, and more words were spoken between two old friends than had been said in ten years. The sun was just rising on the horizon when both participants in the nocturnal catharsis fell into an easy sleep, holding on to each other for dear life.

XXX

Seven months later, four friends (three men and one woman), sat quietly enjoying a meal outside on the deck of a house.

Their steaks were charred beyond recognition as meat.

The sky threatened rain.

Mosquitoes buzzed menacingly around, especially bothering the largest member of the group.

It was just a tiny bit chilly.

In short, it was a fairly nasty day.

But somehow, despite the chill, the wet, the bugs, and the less-than-stellar food, the friends were smiling and laughing.

The silver-haired man rested a hand casually on the thigh of the woman as he leaned back in his chair. The woman's bright blue eyes danced with merriment. There was no trace of discomfort or nervousness between the obvious couple.

The youngest man was excitedly telling a story, but the others were only half listening.

"Don't you see? That's what we've been looking for all this time! If this translates like I think it will, we might finally find the key to Merlin's weapon! We might finally have the advantage in the war against the Ori!"

The grey-headed man responded with a sigh. "Daniel, you've said that about the last fifteen doodads that have been brought back through the gate."

"I know, Jack, but this time is different! I really think I've got something with this one!"

Jack grinned. "You said that last time, too."

Now it was the woman's turn to enter the conversation, and she addressed Jack and Daniel in turn. "Well, actually, I think he's onto something this time, too. Why don't you bring the device by my lab tomorrow and I'll have a look? Maybe we can figure it out together."

Daniel stuck his tongue out at Jack and jokingly sneered across the table at him before he answered. "Sounds like a plan, Sam. Thanks. At least someone here doesn't think I'm crazy."

Jack pointed a warning finger at the younger man. "I never said you were crazy, Daniel. I only said that you think every new rock is the next best invention of all time."

Sam stuck up for Daniel again. "Well, to be fair, a lot of the 'rocks' we've brought back from other worlds have proven themselves pretty damn useful…"

The largest member of the group chimed in now. "She does indeed have a point, O'Neill."

As even Teal'c sided against him, Jack relented. "Alright, alright…FINE. You guys go play with your doodad tomorrow. I'm planning on taking a nice long nap in my chair."

Sam pulled her head back and leaned away from Jack to give him an indignant look. "Don't you mean my chair?"

"Nope. I bought it. I can call it mine if I want to." Jack leaned back and smiled teasingly as he spoke.

"You bought it for me."

"That's hardly the point."

Daniel sighed and shook his head while smiling a smile that was a mixture of true amusement and barely restrained annoyance. He was tired of hearing Jack and Sam bicker about their damn chair. Sure, it was the most comfortable seat in the house, and they fought over it good-naturedly, but sometimes it got on Daniel's last nerve.

"Just let it go, Sam. Just let him take his nap. I guess that's what being retired is all about, huh? Sitting around, not doing anything, bothering everyone all the time…"

"Watch it, Daniel, or I'll kick your ass but good."

"Oh, I'm really scared, Jack."

"You should be."

"Whatever."

The table erupted in laughter at this last line, and the sound carried into the cloudy sky for several minutes before easy conversation resumed.

In short, it was a fairly perfect day.

---The End---

_Coast Of Carolina  
By Jimmy Buffett/Mac McAnally_

_Little roadside restaurant we artfully complain.  
Groovy tells the waitress that his chicken died in vain.  
Most every day goes by according to design.  
I live this dream, but still it seems I have you on my mind._

_From the bottom of my heart,  
Off the coast of Carolina.  
After one or two false starts,  
I believe we found our stride.  
And the walls that won't come down,  
We can decorate or climb or find some way to get around  
Cause I'm still on your side.  
From the bottom of my heart._

_I can't see the future but I know it's comin' fast.  
It's not that hard to wind up knee deep in the past.  
It's come a lot of Mondays  
Since the phone booth that first night.  
Through years and miles and tears and smiles  
I want to get it right._

_From the bottom of my heart,  
Off the coast of Carolina.  
After one or two false starts,  
I believe we found our stride.  
And the walls that won't come down,  
We can decorate or climb or find some way to get around  
Cause I'm still on your side.  
From the bottom of my heart._

_These days I'm up about the time I used to go to bed.  
Living large was once the deal, now I watch the stars instead.  
They are timeless and predictable, unlike most things that I do.  
But I tell the wind and my old friend I'm headed home to you._

_From the bottom of my heart,  
Off the coast of Carolina.  
After one or two false starts,  
I believe we found our stride.  
And the walls that won't come down,  
Hell, we can decorate or climb or find some way to get around  
Cause I'm still on your side.  
From the bottom of my heart.  
From the bottom of my heart._


End file.
